HPWOWP: Year 1 - The Philosopher's Stone
by Charlie Perks
Summary: On Alex Russo's 11th birthday she receives a letter that will change her life forever. Follow Alex as she navigates through her first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Watch as she learns to control her magic and have a chance at the Family Wizard Competition all with the help of some new friends. Part 1 of 7.
1. A Sleepless Night

**A/N: Okay, here's the first chapter! And though I'd think it'd be fairly obvious I'll say it anyway. I do not own the Harry Potter Series nor do I own Wizards of Waverly Place. In fact, I own nothing (Pictures, characters, etc). Now please enjoy and review!**

* * *

Chapter 1 – A Sleepless Night

* * *

It's 4:30 in the morning, but I continue to toss and turn in bed, trying to fall asleep. Ha! As if I'm getting any sleep tonight. Tomorrow, July 22nd, is my eleventh birthday. It is also the day my Hogwarts acceptance letter arrives… or at least I hope it does. Traditionally, they only allow wizards from places like England or Ireland to attend. I wouldn't even know about the place if my annoying older brother, Justin, hadn't gotten in last year. Mr. Perfect-Smarty-Pants-Ravenclaw was nonstop with the bragging. And when he wasn't doing that he talked about how sure he was that I wouldn't get in and how his acceptance letter basically guaranteed his winning the Wizard Competition. Long story short, I was determined to get into Hogwarts if not just to spite him.

Not that I could do that much about it. I wasn't sure how the whole process worked, but Justin's letter arrived on _his_ eleventh birthday, so it should work the same for me (or at least that's what it said on the World Wide Wiz Web).

Unfortunately, the letter (if it was coming) wouldn't be here for at least another five or six hours. At this point I've accepted the fact I'm not going to sleep so I get out of bed and head down the metal, spiral staircase and into the living room. I spot the TV and begin channel surfing, but all that seems to be on is infomercials, but it's better than nothing. (What else am I supposed to do? _Read_?!).

When that gets boring, I turn the TV back off and start thinking. Let's just say I do get into Hogwarts… what will it be like? It's hard to imagine, a school full of wizards… a bunch of kids learning to do magic in some far away castle.

I don't think I could handle not getting in, I mean there were so many advantages to going to Hogwarts. I could do magic whenever I wanted without having to keep it a secret, I wouldn't have to take stupid classes like math or science, I wouldn't have to work in the substation, and I could become a better wizard (Don't look so surprised, I really want to keep my powers).

The only downside to going is that I have to leave my family and best (only) friend, Harper. Harper's pretty much been the most amazing person in my life since kindergarten when we both had to take naps in a separate room from the other kids because we snored. She treats me better than my own family most of the time. Saying goodbye to her is _definitely_ going to be hard.

* * *

A few hours have passed since I first came downstairs. At some point I had become bored with the fantasy and had started Thumb Wrestling against myself (Lefty is such a cheater!) but I stop abruptly when I hear a noise. Then I calm down, realizing it's just Mom, coming downstairs to start making breakfast and opening up the sub shop downstairs.

Even though I didn't want to be caught waiting for my letter I'm glad that it's Mom rather than anyone else (Dad would joke about me being up so early, then tell me to not get my hopes up about the letter he probably thinks isn't coming. Justin would mock me, and then continue to brag about his time at Hogwarts. And Max… ugh, I don't have the energy to deal with Max's randomness at the moment).

"Alex?" she questions when she realizes I'm on the couch. For a moment she looks confused, but then I see it click in her mind. "Is it here yet?"

"No," I sigh, disappointedly, but quickly brush it off, scoffing, "Not that I care…"

"Mm-hmm," she smiles, knowingly. For a mortal, or "muggle" as Justin calls them now, she seems to see right through me. Maybe it's a mom thing. "Well, happy birthday, Mija. Do you want me to get started on your special birthday breakfast?"

Ugh, I'm _way_ too nervous to eat, but I can't let her (or anyone else for that matter) know that…

"Sure, Mom, I'm starving!" I smile enthusiastically, almost convincing myself. I'm an awesome liar.

* * *

It's about 9:00 now, the whole house is up and moving, and I'm about to lose it!

Mom and Dad are downstairs at the restaurant and Max is digging through the refrigerator gathering supplies for his latest "experiment" (which I am really hoping isn't going to be my present), but that isn't the annoying part. The annoying part is Justin, talking on the phone (quite loudly) with his friend from school, Eddie Carmichael. The gist of their conversation is about how _awesome_ their previous year had been and how this year would be even better. And the killer part is that it's actually getting to me. Nothing Justin ever does gets to me. I'm getting more nervous by the second and I can barely pick at my smiley-face pancake. I eat until the plate is bare enough not to hurt Mom's feelings and go out to the terrace.

Why is it taking so long?! Isn't England, like, five hours ahead of us, or something? It should be here already. I don't even like waiting for popcorn in the microwave, but this… this is something that will decide my entire future.

I'm about to give up when I spot a small figure in the sky. When I look closer I see it's a barn owl heading straight for me and I squeal with delight (How unlike me!). Because tied to the owl's leg is a letter, _the_ letter, the letter I've been waiting for all morning.

Just then, Justin races out to the terrace (probably alerted by my squeal) with the phone still glued to his ear. I relish at the sight of his face when he sees the owl flying overhead. "Aw, man!"

"Sorry, Justin," I say, not really sorry at all. "Hope this doesn't put a dent in your _awesome_ year."

Justin groans, then sighs in defeat. "Just don't sit with me on the train." He turns and walks back into the living room. "Bet you five galleons she's in Slytherin." He mutters to Eddie.

I would've said something, but as the owl lands on the retaining wall of the balcony, presenting a yellowish envelope with emerald-green handwriting on it, all my anger goes away. I had forgotten they send letters through owls. And I'm not a big animal lover, or anything, but the thing looks completely wrecked from its long flight. So before taking the letter, I quickly run inside, grab a bowl from the cabinet, and fill it with water.

As soon as the owl is sipping at its refreshment, I look at my letter, carefully reading the envelope, and for a split second, irrationally fear it might not be for me.

_Miss A. Russo_

_The Terrace_

_57 Waverly Place_

_New York City_

_New York_

It's definitely for me! At this, I let out another uncharacteristic squeal and quickly rip open the envelope:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

_of _WITCHCRAFT _and _WIZARDRY

Headmaster: **Albus Dumbledore**

(_Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwamp, International Confed. of Wizards_)

Dear Miss Russo,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

_Deputy Headmistress_

_EEP!_


	2. Hello Goodbye

**A/N: Once again, I do not own Harry Potter or Wizards of Waverly Place**

* * *

Chapter 2 – Hello Goodbye

* * *

The whole afternoon's been kind of a blur for me. But with telling my parents, preparing for my party, and rubbing my acceptance in Justin's face it's been relatively pleasant. We decided to let the owl rest for the night before it's journey back to Hogwarts tomorrow to confirm my spot (When Max heard there was an owl in the house he almost immediately volunteered his room to house the bird). And now, there's only one thing left to do…

"Alex!" I hear someone call. I look toward the front entrance from behind the counter and see my best friend, Harper, running toward me. Now this is going to be difficult, but it seems Harper is prepared, because she is decked out in a light blue dress that is covered in plastic teardrops and a headband of the same shade with an opened tissue box attached to it.

"Hey, Harper," I greet, half-heartedly, walking around the counter to meet her. Harper didn't know I was a wizard, so I had to lie about where I would be for the better part of the next seven years. Well, not exactly lie… the story is that I'm going to a regular boarding school, like Justin, but I still feel bad about it.

"So?" she asks, expectantly.

I nod, sadly. "Yep, I got in."

Harper immediately tears up. "C-Congratulations," she says her voice breaking as she reaches forward and hugs me.

"Oh, Harper, don't cry… I'll be back for all the school breaks: Christmas, summer, Easter. I mean, I know it won't be the same, but—"

"Actually… I have some news too."

I stop my rambling abruptly.

"Do you remember my family's, um… musical comedy act? 'Lights, Camera, Finkle'?"

I giggle at the memory, "Oh, yeah!" and then I belt, "And cue the applause!"

She cringes a bit at the reference. "Right, well, they got a job and they want me to go with them."

Wait, What? "Wait, What? Why? I thought you hated doing the act."

"I do…" she looks down, disappointedly. "But they're my parents, and I have to go where they go."

Now I'm the one who's tearing up. "W-Well, where's the job?"

She gulps hard, fighting back tears. "'The Black Sea Railway' in Romania, we leave tomorrow."

Neither of us holds back tears at this point. We hug and cling to each other, the only friends either of us has ever had. We have this one last night to be together before we each set off on our own European adventures and probably never see each other ever again.

* * *

Another early morning (I really hope this doesn't become a habit) and me, Justin, and Dad are up and about. We rushed a quick breakfast and now Justin and I are waiting in the lair. Justin is grumbling to himself, mostly about how I shouldn't be here.

Why? Because today is the day we go school supply shopping. Unfortunately there is only one place in the whole world to get our stuff and that place is in England (ergo, the early hour). Dad's just sending my acceptance of my acceptance back to Hogwarts before we leave.

"Everybody ready?" Dad asks upon entering our secret wizard's lair.

"Yes!" I say. "I guess," Justin gripes simultaneously.

"Alright then," Dad says, before turning on the I.P.P. (Interwizard People Porter… no, seriously, that's what it's called) and begins dialing in our destination. "Lead Pipe Depot… Leaf Blower Rental… Leah's Coffee House… Ah-hah! Leaky Cauldron… London, England."

Then, a large metal tube appears above us and sucks us in one by one. I have to admit, it's an amazing device: takes you to anywhere in the world in seconds and you don't feel a thing.

"Bend your knees! Bend your knees!" Dad calls.

Suddenly I find myself standing next to my father and brother in front of a grimy looking pub labeled "The Leaky Cauldron". We walk through the bar quickly to the back and into a small outdoor courtyard and head straight for a brick wall.

"Justin?" Dad says, gesturing toward the wall. He gives me a smug look before pulling out the wand he had gotten just last year and begins to tap at random bricks. And right before my eyes the wall seems to melt into a large archway; leading into a long angular street (I'm pretty sure my jaw hit the cobblestone in amazement). This being my first time to Diagon Alley I couldn't decide where to look, I think I might get whiplash but I don't care.

"Wow…" I breathe.

Justin snorts in amusement; as if he's so superior (Dad told me when he first saw this place he fainted).

Either way, I'm a little embarrassed for leering so I try to knock the dazed look off my face. "So what first?"

* * *

After a quick and creepy trip to Gringotts, the Wizard's bank, I look down at the list that had been attached to my letter.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

_of _WITCHCRAFT _and _WIZARDRY

**uniform**

First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

**course books**

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) _by Miranda Goshawk

_A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot

_Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling

_A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration_ by Emeric Switch

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore

_Magical Drafts and Potions _by Arsenius Jigger

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _by Newt Scamander

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection _by Quentin Trimble

**other equipment**

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

**Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad**

**PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK**

So Dad decided we do all the boring stuff first. We spend about an hour in Flourish and Blott's, gathering up our textbooks. Then we spend another half hour at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, getting pricked by a needle repeatedly on the ankles while some lady hems these long, flow-y black robes.

I wanted an owl, but Dad said it would be cruel to send an owl back and forth between countries so he promised he'd get me my own W.I.P.S. (Wizard Instant Parcel Service) Key. Dad had been teaching us all he could without any of us having wands for a couple years now and I knew all about the key. It was big and old, but with it you could open a portal mail slot in midair and after saying the spell (Mailis Spontaneous) followed by a name or a place it would instantly appear there.

We bought everything else on the list too (Justin even got his own broom, the one thing that seemed to lift his spirits all day) until there was only one thing left on the list. I had been looking forward to this all day, and now it was time… I was getting my own magic wand.

* * *

I'm the first to enter the wand shop, a bell rings above my head, announcing my arrival. My dad and brother follow in, reluctantly, obviously dreading the idea of me with unlimited magical powers.

The place was old, and dingy, and quiet with a lot of shelves; it looked like a really disheveled library. But instead of books lining the shelves, there were thin, long boxes. I had no doubt that they were filled with wands, and that one of them was about to be mine.

"Hello," a soft, tired voice greets pleasantly. I turn at the sound of the voice and find that its owner could be described the same way.

"H-Hello," I say, still getting over the initial shock. I quickly brush it off and become my cool confident self (or at least pretend to be, I'm so freaking nervous!) again. "I'd like to buy a wand, my name is—"

"Alexandra Russo."

"Y-Yes…" I clear my throat. "And you know that how?"

He smiles. "Justin Russo, how nice to see you again," He says, looking over my shoulder, completely ignoring my question.

"You too," Justin says quickly.

"Alright then, onto business," The man walks back to where he appeared and is swallowed by the shelves.

I begin to turn toward my company, but before I can the man, Mr. Ollivander according to the name plate on his desk, returns carrying a stack of boxes. This is gonna be fun!

* * *

This is ridiculous! We've been at this for an hour. And with every minute and every

failed wand that goes by my dad gets more impatient and Justin gets more smug.

"I don't understand." I whisper desperately to myself. "I got my letter…"

"Maybe it was a mistake…" Justin taunts.

"Dad!"

"Justin, not now," Dad warns.

Mr. Ollivander hands me yet another wand (I'm pretty sure it's the fifteenth one I've tried) and after a wave (yet again) NOTHING HAPPENS! What is wrong?!

"Ugh!" I groan, irritated.

"I think…" Ollivander begins, suddenly, looking thoughtful. "I think it's time to dip into my 'special stock'."

In a few minutes he's back with all new boxes, only these boxes have fancy patterns on them. In the corner of my eye I see Justin stiffen a bit.

"These wands are a little... untraditional… but I have not known a wizard that possessed one that didn't grow to be extraordinary."

Excitement refills me as I'm handed more wands. These aren't made of wood like the others I've tried. They're sleek, and plastic, or metal looking with different colors and patterns. I try a few, but none seem to work for me and after the first five Justin's smirk returns. Then I come to a new box, I look up to Mr. Ollivander quickly and I see him smiling. I take that as a good sign.

When I open the box I get a chill at the sight of what it holds: a long and sleek crimson wand with a black handle and a tiny glass orb at the top. As soon as I take it in my hand an electric current runs through me and with a swish purple fireworks shoot from the stone. My father applauds, my brother looks annoyed, and Mr. Ollivander smiles at me warmly.

"Fourteen inches… dogwood coated in maroon chrome… dragon heartstring core… quite quirky and mischievous." He finishes with a wink.

"That's the one!" Dad jokes before laughing a little too loud, but I'm too happy to be embarrassed. I have a wand!


	3. The Hogwarts Express

**A/N: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. Wizards belongs to Disney. I own nothing.**

**(I'd like to dedicate this chapter to my very first reviewer Im a Skyscraper. Thank you so much! And your stories are awesome)**

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Chapter 3 – The Hogwarts Express

* * *

It's been a month since our trip to Diagon Alley, and with the anticipation of going to Hogwarts and Harper gone, it's been pretty much the longest month of my life. I've been looking through my school books a lot (I know, right? I was shocked too!) But the way I see it it's not like real school, so there's a loophole. And for some reason I keep coming back to my potions book. Now, I'm not the type to find anything school related interesting (I mean, I'm not Justin, right?) but everything they can do sounds so cool. Except the ingredients… rat tail? Eye of newt? Gross!

But none of that matters. Because today is September 1, and today is the day I catch the train that takes me to Hogwarts!

So this morning I am up early (Once again) getting ready to leave. We've been staying at the Leaky Cauldron for the past week and it's not as bad as I thought it would be. We would've used the I.P.P. but now that I'm going to school we have to refrain from using magic because Dad doesn't have any powers and Justin and I are underage (We're already pushing it with the W.I.P.S. keys).

So we're walking through King's Cross Station headed straight for Platforms 9 and 10. Justin's the first to angle his cart right at the barrier before running straight through. Mom and Max are next, Mom looking a little apprehensive. Finally it's Dad's and my turn. Before we go I look back and see a little redheaded girl, holding onto her mother's hand saying, "Oh, can't I go, please!" I feel a little bad for her, I mean, that was me last year. But I don't have much time to think about it because Dad is telling me to go. We run at the wall, and though I know we'll pass through it, I still brace myself for impact. Of course, it doesn't come, and now I'm standing on Platform 9¾.

All around me there are kids and families, trunks and animals, and a scarlet steam engine. Though I'm freaking out inside, I am _not_ gonna lose my cool in front of all the kids I'm going to be spending the rest of the year with.

I take a deep breath, then me and dad continue to walk and join the rest of the family. Mom hugs Justin before he affectionately tousles Max's hair. When we reach them Dad pulls Justin into one of their "manly hugs" (_Boys_). When they're done Justin turns and leaves. Now it's my turn.

Mom hugs me first. "Oh, I'm going to miss you so much, Mija!"

"I'm gonna miss you too, Mom." She kisses my cheek before making way for Max.

"Alright, Maxie, now that I'm leaving it means you've gotta step up." I say, smiling down at him. "Don't let Mom and Dad's lives get _too_ boring."

Mom and Dad look at me disapprovingly with a sigh but as Max hugs me he whispers, "Don't worry; I've already got some ideas."

I giggle and nudge him towards Mom, who looks like she could really use another hug. And now time for the hard part: Dad.

He was crying before I was even in his arms. And now I'm being smothered. I vaguely make out things like "My little girl!" and "So grown up" through his sobs. So much for not being embarrassed.

"Dad, calm down, people are staring!" I complain.

"I'm s-sorry," he chokes. "I'm just going to miss you."

"Me too… I'll write you the second I get there, alright?"

He chuckles to himself. "Alright,"

When I finally escape, I start rolling my trunk toward the train. I lift one end onto the first step, not realizing how heavy the thing was until now. I push as hard as I can before it comes clattering down to the platform.

"Hey, you need any help?"

I turn to see that the person who said that was a tall boy with light brown hair. I blush a little, because, well… he's cute, alright?

"Um, sure, thanks." I say as he helps lift it onto the train. I don't understand why he's doing this for me… or why he's talking to a measly first year, but I'm _definitely_ not complaining. He takes it all the way to an empty compartment and puts it in one of the overhanging cubbies.

"Interesting accent," he says nonchalantly. "Are you American?"

I almost forgot that I was probably one of the only "foreigners" in the school. "Oh, yeah, I'm an American wizard, but my brother goes here too. Justin Russo?"

"Oh, right," he says, half-heartedly. He's probably met him. "Well, I've got to go. Enjoy the ride. Oh, and I'm Cedric Diggory by the way, third year."

I smile. "Alex Russo, first year,"

"I know." He smiles again, and I swear, I'm a little lightheaded. "Well, hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" and he's gone.

I sigh before sitting down. This is it! I'm going to Hogwarts! I can feel the train is starting to move so I go outside to the corridor and lean out the window, waving at all the people. I see my parents and Max and give them a wave and as the train keeps moving I see the little redheaded girl from before chasing after the train. Aw! I give her a special wave as well and she smiles at me. When we reach the end of the platform she has to stop but continues to wave and I watch her until she's out of sight.

* * *

I'm back in my compartment and it's been a few hours since the train left the station. I'm rifling through my Potions book once again when a round-faced boy with crooked teeth opens the door. "Um, s-sorry to bother you, but you wouldn't happen to have seen a toad around, have you?"

A toad? "Uh… sorry, no,"

"Oh, alright then," The boy turns to leave.

"Wait!" I call. "You need any help finding it?"

He hesitates. "R-Really? You want to help?"

"Sure," I say, shutting the book and standing up. "It's not like I'm doing much else."

"O-Okay,"

"I'm Alex… Russo," I greet, offering my hand. (Don't look at me like that, just because I'm… a strong personality, doesn't mean I don't know my manners).

"Neville Longbottom," He shakes my hand, his is a bit clammy.

I exit the compartment and begin to walk down the corridor. I peek into a few and am about to open another one when Neville says, "Oh, you can skip that one, I already checked in there." I glance inside, but I can't see much because a girl with really bushy hair is blocking the window. I shrug it off and continue down the train.

* * *

After checking a few others with no luck I open another.

"Excuse me,"

Conversation within the compartment immediately stops. Inside are three boys, two of which are bigger and tougher looking than the third, like hired bodyguards. The third boy is pale with a pointed and admittedly not bad-looking face. His hair is blond and slicked back. I'd never seen the boy in my life, but his eyes seem to brighten at the sight of me.

"Yes?" he asks, politely. I get a strange feeling he doesn't usually talk like this.

"Have you seen a toad anywhere?"

For a moment his composure breaks. "You have a toad?" his two goons snicker at this.

"No, I'm helping a kid find his. You got a problem?" I say crossing my arms.

He looks speechless. _Good._

"Well, you obviously haven't. Thank you for being so cooperative."

"Wait!" he calls, making me stop in my tracks. He gets up and meets me at the doorway. "We haven't been properly introduced. I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. And you are?"

"Russo, Alex Russo?" I say, a bit confused. What's up with him?

"That's a lovely accent you have there, Alex Russo. Where are you from?"

"New York." I say proudly.

"You're from the states, then?"

"Yes," I say a bit impatiently. "Or is there something wrong with that too?"

He smiles. "No, no, nothing wrong… just interesting… you are… very interesting."

Oh my god, is he hitting on me? By the looks of him he could only be a first year. Aren't eleven year old boys supposed to be playing video games and getting over the cootie epidemic?

"…Okay then," I say, after a while. I have no idea what to say. This whole thing is really awkward. "Well, I guess I should keep searching for the toad—"

"You don't have to go." Draco says quickly. "Why don't you sit with us for a while?"

His tough looking friends look pretty much exactly how I feel: uncomfortable. Then again, maybe it would be a good idea to start trying to make friends, even if it is…_ them_.

"Uh, sure, why not?" I shrug before sitting down near the window where Draco quickly sits next to me.

"Alex, these are my friends Crabbe and Goyle, we went to primary school together, a special academy of sorts for future Hogwarts students."

My eyes widen a little in fear. "Were we all supposed to go there? Because I didn't hear anything about—"

He quickly cuts me off. "No, no, just a little thing my father set up with some of the older wizarding families. To give us some knowledge before we come here."

"Oh," I say. I don't really know what to make of this Draco Malfoy character. He seems kind of snobbish but I'm sure with time he could mellow out. He also seems a little too friendly with me. I don't see what he could find so interesting about me since we're just meeting, but who am I to turn down friendship from anyone?

"So, know what house you'll be in?"

"No, not really," I glance over at his two thuggish friends who have yet to say a word. "I don't know that much about them. You know, growing up in a different country and all that. My brother's in Ravenclaw, but he's dorky and annoying so I don't think I'd want to be in a house filled with people like him." Draco laughs openly at this and even Crabbe and Goyle snicker. "But he made a bet with his friend saying I'd be put in Slytherin."

Draco smiles broadly at this. "Excellent! I haven't a doubt _I'll_ be in Slytherin. My whole family's been placed there for generations." He sounds quite proud.

* * *

So I stay with them for a while. It's not so bad. I mean, sure Crabbe and Goyle don't say much and only laugh when Draco does, like they need his approval first. And sure Draco is a bit overconfident and sarcastic, but who am I to judge, really? Every now and then Draco throws a comment at me that's a bit too flirtatious for my taste but I just smile and try to change the subject.

After a while I make an excuse to leave, saying I have to put on my wizard robes, which is true, but I kind of feel bad about abandoning my search for Neville's toad so I keep an extra sharp eye out on the way back to my compartment. All the way there I hear kids whispering. They're all talking about someone, a boy named Harry Potter. It does peak my interest, but before I can listen in on anyone I hear a croak and look quickly toward the source. Hiding in a little alcove near one of the doors that connects train cars is a frog. I can only assume its Neville's so I pick him up and take him back to my compartment. Since I have no idea where Neville is I'll have to find him later.

After shutting the door I quickly put the jumpy amphibian on the opposite bench from where I sit because, well, I didn't want to hold a frog. With the windows closed he can hop around without the risk of getting lost again. I'm about to go back to my potions book (Still so weird) when I hear a lot of noise and screaming coming from a few compartments away. I slide out the door, making sure the frog can't escape and see some kids running down the train… weird.

"I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor," I hear someone say. "And he says we're nearly there."

I'm once again filled with excitement as I slip back into my compartment. Once I'm changed into my uniform I wait impatiently for the train to stop.

Then I hear a voice, which I assume is being broadcast over some hidden intercom. "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken to the school separately."

_Five more minutes?!_

Through the windowed door I see students pouring out into the corridor and quickly get to my feet. Amongst the crowd I can see everyone I've met so far: Justin with his friend Eddie Carmichael, Cedric Diggory, Draco Malfoy with Crabbe and Goyle (Goyle holding his finger as if he's injured it) and Neville who is walking with three other kids: a bushy brunette who was talking rather quickly, a red head with an annoyed expression on his face that reminded me a lot of that girl running after the train, and a boy with jet black hair and bright green eyes behind John Lennon glasses.

The students are a wall of bodies I can't seem to get through but I make it anyway. When I reach them Neville is the only one who smiles, the others just look a bit confused.

"Neville Longbottom," I say in my best announcer-type voice. "Is this your toad?"

"Trevor!" Neville cries blissfully. Trevor? Not what I would've named it, but whatever.

"Where'd you find him?" the bushy haired girl asks curiously.

"He was hiding in this little corner a few cars over; I'm guessing trying not to get squashed."

Neville gulps audibly at the thought of that. "Well, thank you, Alex." He quickly tries to wiggle through the crowd to put Trevor back in his cage.

I'm about to turn away when John Lennon's bangs slightly shift with a head turn and I see he has something on his forehead. When he sees me looking he tries to flatten his hair, but really, he only makes it easier to see. On his forehead he has a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt.

"Hey," I say admiringly. "Cool scar, how'd you get it?"

The three of them look at me as if I were from another planet. What? What did I say? Before I could further investigate the doors of the train open and everyone begins to file out. To avoid the trio's looks I walk out too and follow the directions of this really huge, hairy guy. He tells the first years to get into these little row boats at the end of the station that sit atop a black mass of water.

"No more'n four to a boat!" the hairy giant calls.

I climb into a boat and am quickly accompanied by Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle.

"Hello again, Alex," Draco greets, smiling.

"Hi," I look past them to see Neville in a boat with the three kids from the train. Soon the boats begin sailing all by themselves. It startles me and I momentarily cling to Draco before I am put off by his smug expression. I can see lights in the distance before I could see a giant castle with various turrets and towers on top of a mountain. Hogwarts! I'm finally here!

* * *

*** Some lines are directly taken from ****_Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_**** by J.K. Rowling**


	4. The Sorting

**A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or Wizards of Waverly Place. If I did, believe you me, there would be some changes.**

* * *

Chapter 4 – The Sorting

* * *

After the boats took us through this hidden tunnel under the cliff the castle sits on top of, we ended up here: an underground harbor leading to another passage way. The giant shepherds us quickly down it and now we're walking across a bed of grass that lies right next to the castle. We're on the grounds. We're led up a stone staircase before our guide knocks on the castle door. It immediately opens, revealing a stern looking woman with black hair and green robes.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," The giant says.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

The woman, Professor McGonagall, opens the doors fully and reveals a gigantic entrance hall with stone walls lit with torches, an immeasurable ceiling and a marble staircase leading to who knows where. Professor McGonagall leads us to a chamber just off the hall where we all cram inside.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," She begins. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony…"

The gist of the speech is that tonight we will be sorted into our houses and that we win or lose points depending on how we behave. God help the house I'm sorted into. Everything seems pretty standard. I already know what's waiting for me inside. Justin told us all about the Sorting Hat. To be honest I'm not looking forward to some creepy hat reading my thoughts but how bad could it be?

When she finishes her speech McGonagall turns and leaves us to wait. As soon as she is gone everyone else begins to look even more nervous. Well, except some obvious exceptions like Draco, who obviously knows what's waiting for him, and that bushy haired girl, who has obviously memorized her textbooks, because she's whispering quite fast to anyone who will listen wondering aloud how she'll have to apply her knowledge.

* * *

We've entered the Great Hall, the hat has sung his song and now it's time for us to be sorted. The hat has been calling name after name and seating people rather quickly.

"Abbott, Hannah!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Brocklehurst, Mandy!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Brown, Lavender!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Bulstrode, Millicent!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

When the bushy haired girl runs up I learn her name is Hermione Granger, and she is the second to be sorted into Gryffindor.

Now it's Neville's turn. He's shaking with nervousness. This kid definitely needs to lighten up; I may need to offer him my services. He reminds me a lot of Harper when I first met her. After he's sorted into Gryffindor he attempts to run off the stage with the Sorting Hat still on his head.

Later when Draco is called, he walks with such confidence I have to admire it a little bit. Everyone else has been so nervous, understandably so, but still. And just like he predicted he is almost immediately placed into Slytherin. He smiles and winks at me before taking his seat at the Slytherin table.

Things go by pretty smoothly after that. That is until one particular name is called.

"Potter, Harry!"

Potter, Harry? As in Harry Potter? The one everyone was talking about on the train? He's here? Who is he anyway? Why is he so important? The room is now filled with whispers all about Harry. They're not exactly being discrete about it, are they? I feel someone brush by me on their way toward the stool. I lock eyes with the passerby briefly and smile. It's the kid from the train with the scar. I have no idea what makes him so important but he should see that someone here is willing to treat him normally. And who better than me, someone who hasn't a clue who he is?

He smiles back at me, looking kind of grateful, before he's in front of everyone with the hat on his head. He's up there for a while, a hat stall I think is what they call it, before the hat shouts, "GRYFFINDOR!" The Gryffindor table bursts into applause, some even chanting, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

Geez, try following that! Unfortunately, that's exactly what I have to do. In an effort to calm the Gryffindor table down Professor McGonagall shouts my name loudly: "Russo, Alexandra!"

I take a deep breath and walk up to the hat. When I sit on the stool I can see that no one is paying me much attention. The few I see that are include my brother and Eddie Carmichael, about to see who won their bet; Draco, who just finished grimacing at the Gryffindor table but he looks hopefully towards me; Neville, giving me a friendly smile, which I appreciate; Cedric Diggory, the cute Hufflepuff, is also giving me a reassuring look; and finally, before the hat covers my eyes they lock briefly once again with the apparently famous Harry Potter.

"Ah!" a voice speaks to me. "The second Russo… but you're not much like your brother at all, are you?"

_I would hope not_, I think to myself.

The voice chuckles, "Yes, your brother was quite easy to place… you on the other hand… hmm, quite difficult. You have qualities admired by many of the houses. Intelligent… manipulative… a great sense of loyalty, I see. Very brave as well. Stubborn, opinionated, yet cunning and deceitful when the mood suits you…"

_Rather honest, aren't you?_ I think.

"That is the job." The hat says. "I think it's between Gryffindor and Slytherin for you… don't get many of those—well, we have _today_ but, it all depends on the future you want for yourself."

At this I began to think. Everyone has always expected the worst of me, just because I have a tendency to do whatever necessary to do what I want. I'd love to show everyone how great I can be. And I really don't want Justin to win his stupid bet.

"Well, then it's decided. Better be… GRYFFINDOR!"

I smile brightly as the Gryffindor table cheers again and start my walk towards the empty seat next to Neville. Justin is grimacing, handing over a small pouch to Eddie that I can only assume contains the five galleons he promised. I hesitantly glance in Draco's direction and the disappointment is plain on his face. I give him a weak smile before sitting down.

Finally, with the sorting of Ronald Weasley (The ginger who had been hanging around with Neville, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter) into Gryffindor who sits next to Harry across from me, and Blaise Zabini (Ha! The name still cracks me up) into Slytherin, the sorting is over. The headmaster stands and says a few words, (_Literally_, I'm not sure if he's sane enough to run a school) and the feast begins.

To say I'm shocked at the sight of the table suddenly covered in enough food to feed a small town is a bit of an understatement. Nevertheless, I haven't really eaten anything since breakfast this morning back at the Leaky Cauldron. The candy lady had come by on the train, but I didn't recognize any of the stuff she was carting around so I politely refused. I pile anything familiar looking onto my plate and begin to chow down.

I vaguely hear the boys across the table holding a conversation with a ghost, but I'm too hungry and tired to listen. I do pause when I hear a shriek and some gasps, before looking up to see the ghost has pulled his head almost completely off his body.

"Awesome!"

He gives me an uncomfortable smile after flipping his head back onto his neck. "So—new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the House Championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable—he's the Slytherin ghost."

I check out after that. I'm really not into the whole house rivalry thing, I guess. It just seems like a lot of work to hate people who haven't given me any reason to yet.

When dessert starts everyone starts talking about their families. This Irish kid, Seamus Finnigan, goes on about how his dad didn't know about his wife's powers until after they were married. Everyone finds this quite funny. Then Neville tells the story of how his family was convinced he was a Squib and how he'd been dropped from a window when he showed his first signs of magic and everyone was really pleased. I probably shouldn't have said anything, but I couldn't help myself.

"So, your family thought you having powers was more important than your own safety?"

Neville shifts uncomfortably at this. "Well, I-I don't think that they… I mean my-my parents were—"

I suddenly blush at how intrusive I'm being. Great way to try and make friends, Alex! "I'm sorry, forget I said anything." I quickly go back to my chocolate cake, hoping to get away from this awkward conversation. But before it's totally over I glance up and lock eyes once again with the famous-for-some-reason-I-don't know Harry Potter, and he seems to agree with me on the absurdity of it. I smile a little at him before my eyes go back to my dessert and he looks toward the head table.

* * *

A little while later, I'm in my new dorm room. It's midsized and circular with four canopied beds all in Gryffindor colors. All my stuff is in here already, which is good. I can see my trunk at the end of a bed I assume has been assigned to me. I quickly sit on it. When I do, I begin to examine my new roommates.

First, there's a pretty Indian girl I learn whose name is Parvati Patil. She is gossiping with another girl who has long, curly blond hair and a name that is really two colors: Lavender Brown (Got to give her parents credit for that one). And finally I look to my third roommate, the bushy haired girl from the train: Hermione Granger.

She is rolling her eyes at the other two gossiping away about all the cute boys our new school has to offer. Though I did agree based on who I've seen today (I'm not naming names) there was just so much more to think about. I was in the most amazing place; about to have the most amazing experiences… boys could wait till I hit puberty.

"Hi… I'm Alex," I greet, somewhat nervously, extending my hand toward Hermione.

She looks at my hand and up at me, a little disbelieving, like she wasn't expecting anyone to talk to her before shaking it. "Hermione,"

"Oh, so that's what you go by?" I ask.

"Pardon?"

"Oh, nothing, it's just I thought you might go by something shorter for some reason. Like my name is Alexandra, but I hate that name so I go by Alex."

"There's nothing wrong with my name!" She huffs, suddenly. "And I see no need to shorten it!"

"Oh, no, no, no, I'm sorry," I say. "I wasn't trying to insult you or anything. I-I just… ugh, never mind." I sigh, defeated as I go back to my bed, in between Hermione's and Lavender's.

Hermione's hard expression softens a bit before she sits down next to me on my bed. "No, no I'm sorry. I guess I'm just a little on edge. I was teased a lot at my old school, and my name seemed to be a big joke around there… among other things…" she finishes, making a broad gesture to her big hair.

"Well, those were dumb muggles who didn't know that you had the ability to hex them within an inch of their life." I laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

"You know I'm a muggleborn." She says, as if stating an obvious fact.

"Oh, gosh," I begin. "That must've sounded bad. No, I meant those muggles were dumb, just the ones that bullied you. I think it's idiotic to bully in general. I have nothing against muggles. My mother's one… and so is my old best friend…"

"What happened with your best friend?" Hermione asks, curiously.

"Well," I begin, slightly uncomfortable. "She had to move away a couple months ago, and with me coming here we just aren't going to see each other anymore. She doesn't even know I'm a wizard and that all really sucks, because she was the only friend I've ever had. I-I'm not really good at making friends… which you could probably tell." I say all this kind of fast and nervous, which is _so_ not like me, but I've been trying to not look scared all day and I'm sick of it.

"Neither am I." Hermione smiles, gently. "Maybe we can help each other."

"Sure…" I say. "Yeah, that'd be great."

She nods before turning around to her bed. But then she stops, and turns as if having a sudden thought. "Um… Alex?"

"Yeah?"

"Well… I'm just curious…" she begins. "Earlier on the train, when you asked Harry about his scar… do you really not know who he is or—"

"No," I say. "I have no idea. Maybe he's only famous in England or something?"

"That's right, you're American." Hermione says, with a quizzical look on her face. "How is it that you're going to Hogwarts, then? I read only wizards from the United Kingdom attended."

"I have no idea about that either." I say. "All I know is that my older brother got a letter accepting him here last year and then I got one myself a few months ago."

"Interesting…" Hermione muses.

"How is it you know about Harry Potter if you're a muggleborn?" I ask.

"Well, when I learned I was a witch, and went to Diagon Alley, I bought a fair few amount of books to brush up on the magical world before I fully entered it and he was in quite a few of them."

"What could he possibly have done to land in a book before he even came to Hogwarts?" I wonder aloud.

Hermione giggles lightly at my ignorance. "Try defeating the world's most powerful dark wizard at the age of one."

I look at her disbelieving. She has to be kidding, right? I laugh a little but when I see her serious expression it fades and dies. "Really?"

* * *

After one very twisted bedtime story I'm getting ready to go to sleep. I'm lying under the covers when I remember I was supposed to write to Dad the minute I could. I throw the covers off me, run to my trunk and dig out a roll of parchment and my new quill and ink set. That wasn't going to be easy to get used to. I lean over my bedside table with the light still on. I dip the quill in ink and begin to write.

_Dear Mom, Dad, and Max_

_Made it to Hogwarts. Everything has been completely amazing. There was a delicious feast and I've already made some friends… I think. Oh, and I'm in Gryffindor! Who knew? I miss you guys already. I'm going to bed now (They have weird hours here) and I hope you write back soon._

_Love, Alex_

I sign my name and take my supplies back to my open trunk. Once I have the key I quickly do the spell (_Mailis Spontaneous_, Jerry Russo) then head back to bed. I lie down and think about the day I've had and the people I've met. And then I think about my life back in Manhattan, and how that seems like a whole other world now. I heave a big sigh, and think to myself, _A new life, huh? Bring it on._

* * *

*** Some lines are directly taken from ****_Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_**** by J.K. Rowling**

**** Reviews are much appreciated (WINK, WINK!)**


	5. The Week From Hell

**A/N: As always, I do not own Harry Potter or Wizards. Please enjoy, and reviews are loved!**

* * *

Chapter 5 – The Week from Hell

* * *

So, to be honest, my first week at Hogwarts hasn't been going so well. Every morning I've woken up to Hermione screeching at me to get up or else I'll be late. This chick _obviously_ doesn't know me, because she thinks I care. But it was such a shock the first morning I had gotten ready in a rush and had gone to my first class out of uniform, forgetting where I was, and was sent back to my dormitory to change. This sort of made me a joke to my fellow classmates; I was either the _stupid_ American who couldn't follow basic rules or the _big-headed_ American who thought she was better than everyone else and wore regular clothes because she felt like it.

Then there was the fact that the friendships I thought I'd started were quickly beginning to fizzle. Neville had been keeping his distance since my comment about his family. I really wasn't trying to offend him or anything, yet he's been avoiding me like the plague. This brings me to Draco, who I made the mistake of sitting with one day at breakfast. There had been a collective gasp when I had sat at the Slytherin table. And Draco, who had been kind and flirty toward me on the train had regarded me as if I were scum. He quickly explained to me the Slytherin/Gryffindor rivalry before I was almost thrown from the table with their catcalling, a pug-faced girl named Pansy Parkinson sitting next to Draco being one of the worst. But then the _strangest_ thing happened… somehow the entire Slytherin table had gone silent and their lips had been replaced with zippers (It cost Gryffindor house ten points, but it was _totally_ worth it). You'd think this would raise my standing with the other Gryffindors, but people just assumed it was the work of these redheaded twins, Fred and George Weasley.

Then, of course, there were the classes themselves. I had somehow deluded myself into thinking that school _might_ be different in the wizarding world. But no, it's still a lot of boring, complicated material that I don't get that people are gonna judge me for. Astronomy was boring and got in the way of my sleep (We had it at midnight and they still expected us up early for our classes the next day); Herbology was complicated and dirty (Though, I believe that was the most relaxed I had ever seen Neville Longbottom); Transfiguration was a complete _bust_ (However, I wasn't the only one struggling, Hermione was the only one who could turn a stupid match into a stupid needle); and History of Magic—(Don't even get me started). The only thing I still have hope for is Potions—which I have today—hopefully all that reading I did wasn't a _complete_ waste of time.

Upon entering the Great Hall I quickly scurry over to the Ravenclaw table where I spot Justin and Eddie having an obviously stupid conversation because it's complete with fake explosions and hushed screams.

"Justin!"

"Alex!" he complains when he looks up at me. "I thought we agreed to ignore each other… I don't want people to see me talking to you."

I roll my eyes. "Sorry to interrupt what is _clearly_ a very important, intellectual conversation, but could you pretend to be a good brother for, like, five minutes?"

He pretends to think about it, "Maybe when you start behaving like a good sister who's not out to get me, so… Oh, never gonna happen!" He and Eddie laugh, before doing their "cool" guy handshake.

"Okay, enough of this." I grab him by the hood of his robes and drag him out of the Great Hall.

"Hey, watch it!" he complains before I roughly let him go.

"Justin, did you… fit in when you first started Hogwarts last year?" I ask, somewhat (if not completely) nervous.

"Why? Not having the 'everything's easy for Alex, let's cater to whatever she wants' time we're so accustomed to?" he asks with a smirk.

I give him a glare. "Look, I haven't done anything to you for, like, a month, so all these little quips of yours aren't coming off so much clever as douche-y."

He gives an exasperated sigh. "Fine, I'm sorry, we done?"

"No," I begin, already annoyed, but try to soften my expression. "Did, uh… did people make fun of you for being American?"

"No, why?" he asks, starting to look genuinely concerned.

So I relay to him the whole situation and he promises that it'll probably all blow over soon. I grudgingly thank him for his advice. He goes back to his table, I go to mine, and we pretend (like we always do) that we don't know each other.

* * *

It's after breakfast and I'm headed toward the dungeons (What? I didn't do anything, I swear. That's where they hold the potions classes). It's kind of cold and creepy down here, and it's odd how that description also fits the Potions Master, Professor Snape. He seems to have a permanent frown on his face and along with his all black attire he could be mistaken as a mourner at a funeral. The guy just seems so… absent? I guess? He could definitely use a girlfriend.

Like a lot of the teachers he begins by calling roll. I'm all prepared to say, "Here!" because he's getting close to the R's, but he suddenly stops and I get worried for some unexplainable reason, but then he says, "Ah, _yes_, Harry Potter. Our new—_celebrity_."

I hear some snickering and look behind me to see that it's Draco and his stupid _Slytherin_ friends. I shoot them a look, making eye contact with Draco and he immediately stops. (_Weird_, I think sarcastically to myself, _why would a Slytherin care what a Gryffindor thinks of him?)_ But what's really weird is how much Professor Snape seems to already dislike Harry; I mean, what did he do to him?

"Alexandra Russo?" Snape asks, once he's finished the malicious glare directed at Harry.

"Here!" I call, firmly.

* * *

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," Professor Snape begins, staring around the room at all of us, the look in his eyes telling you that he could see into your soul and didn't like what he saw. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses.… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death— if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Everyone was on the edge of their seats, hanging on his every word… except for me that is. I don't like this guy. I mean, I've had my share of difficult teachers that I'm sure weren't too fond of me, but never has one blatantly made fun of their students and called them stupid. I don't know how I'm going to work out in this class. Sure, I paid a little extra attention to this class's textbook than the others, but so what? Does that automatically mean I'm going to be the best? I've never even been average.

"Potter!" Snape says suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Whoa, I know that one! Cool! Though, Harry doesn't seem to. He just looks really confused for a moment before he says. "I don't know, sir,"

Snape gives him an ugly sneer. "Tut, tut—fame clearly isn't everything."

_What?!_ Is he serious? How can he expect him to know something like that? I mean, I do, and so does Hermione judging by her raised hand, but what kind of teacher makes fun of you for not knowing the answer to a question?

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Wow, I'm two for two! And so is Hermione, who looks like she'll explode if she can't answer the question. Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle are not trying to hide their laughter at all as Harry is unable to answer again. "I don't know, sir,"

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"

Okay, I _really_ don't like this guy. What is his deal?

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

I couldn't take it anymore. Snape was trying to make Harry look stupid on purpose, so just as Hermione was getting out of her seat I coughed, "Trick question!"

The whole room goes silent as all eyes turn to me.

"I'm sorry, did you have something to add, Miss…"

"Russo, Alex, Russo." Well, it's obvious he's not going to like me now (And I don't think I want him to) so I sit up a little straighter on my stool. "And yes I do."

I can see he's taken aback for at least a millisecond before his intimidating demeanor returns. I suppose he thought I would back down. Ha! Good luck with that! "And what would that be, Alex Russo?"

A few of the Slytherins snicker, like they're expecting me to cower under the big, bad, Potions Master. "I was just wondering if you had wanted us to memorize the entire text book before school started."

The Gryffindors in the room all laugh at this. Well, except Hermione, who is shooting me these pleading eyes, begging me to stop.

"Well, since Mr. Potter is _clearly_ lacking why don't you enlighten us, Miss Russo?" Snape asks me, sending me those condescending black eyes of his.

I give him a defiant glare of my own. "Happy to," I stand and turn my back on him to face the majority of the class. "When you combine root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood it creates a powerful sleeping potion called the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat that can save you from most poisons. And there is no difference between monkshood and wolfsbane, they're the same plant, but it's also known as aconite." I take a deep breath when I finish and everyone is stunned silent, even Snape, though Hermione and Draco both look mildly impressed (Even though Hermione looks a tad disappointed that she couldn't answer the questions). After a few seconds of silence I decide to be a little obnoxious. "I think that deserves some applause."

The Slytherins all sneer at me (excluding Draco, of course) but suddenly one Gryffindor, Seamus Finnigan, starts a slow clap. He is then joined by Ronald Weasley, then Neville, Parvati and Lavender from my dorm, and then every Gryffindor.

"Silence!" Snape barks suddenly. Everyone immediately stops. Then he turns on me. "Congratulations, Miss Russo, you will be receiving the first detention of the term. As well as a point from Gryffindor for your cheek." My mouth drops open automatically. "And another point from Gryffindor, Potter, for your lack of preparation."

"What?!" I screech. "You're going to give me detention for answering your question? What kind of—" I'm cut off by Hermione yanking me back into my seat by the sleeve of my robes. She gives me a warning look, and I decide I've caused enough trouble for Gryffindor today.

"Now, if Miss Russo is quite finished, we may continue." Snape says before he turned to the front of the classroom. I glance hesitantly to my left. I catch Harry's eye and he gives me a grateful smile, and I smile back at him with a nod. When he turns back to Ron, I look back and see Draco looking highly disgruntled.

* * *

I've been in potions for about an hour now, sending the occasional glare at Snape. I refuse to call him Professor because he does not deserve that title. I think he's the first person in a while to gain my hatred so quickly, but I _hate_ him.

He put us into pairs to create a potion to cure boils. The instructions seem simple enough so it shouldn't have been that difficult. Except that he paired me with Neville. Things between me and Neville are still awkward, and I really want to fix things between us, but this is not the place. And you try working on an assignment with someone who clearly doesn't want to talk to you.

Everything is going fine (Quiet, but fine) on the potion; since he isn't much for words I'm reading the ingredients aloud and passing them to him to add to the cauldron.

"Everyone," Snape calls, making us all freeze. "Look at the perfect way Mr. Malfoy has stewed his horned slugs."

I roll my eyes. Of course he and Draco get along. I turn back and see Neville adding the porcupine needles to the cauldron… that's still on the fire!

"Neville, no!" I yell before ducking under the desk. There's a loud hiss and the dungeon is enveloped in acid green smoke. I look up and see my cauldron is now a twisted blob. The potion is seeping across the floor burning holes in people's shoes until they're all standing on their stools. I look to Neville, whose face is covered in angry red boils and my eyes widen. Snape stalks over to us, looking as though he's about to hit us. With a wave of his wand the potion is gone, but his livid expression is still there.

"Idiot boy!" he snarls. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

All Neville can do is whimper, pitifully, as more boils sprout on his nose. Then Snape turns to me and snaps, "Take him to the hospital wing."

Now, based on this afternoon alone, I wouldn't have listened to any order of his. But this is the perfect opportunity to smooth things over with Neville so I stand and take him by the arm, leading him out of the classroom and up the steps toward the main castle.

"So," I say, looking around. "Any idea where the hospital wing is?"

"Uh… yeah," Neville says, sheepishly. "I've sort of been there a few times already."

* * *

Madam Pomfrey makes Neville finish the entire potion in one gulp before telling him to lie back and walks briskly away toward her office. Now that we're alone again the awkwardness has returned. I look at Neville, who is slightly propped up in his hospital bed, and he seems to be avoiding my eye. He's probably wishing that I'll leave soon. Well, he's got another thing coming.

"Hey, Neville?"

"Hmm?" he asks, still not looking at me.

"Do you remember that one time I apologized to you?"

He looks around at me, looking very confused. _That got his attention_. "What?"

I scoff and avoid his gaze. "Oh my god, can we please stop talking about it! You get the point!" I stand up and begin to walk toward the exit.

"Alex," Neville calls. I stop in my tracks and smile, waiting for him to continue. "Are you sure you didn't inhale any of that gas from the explosion?"

I giggle to myself. I knew this kid had potential. And if anyone's gonna get credit for bringing it out of him, it's gonna be me. I turn back around, still feigning discomfort. "Look, I know things have been weird since I said that thing about your family during the Welcome Feast. I _really _didn't mean to offend you or anything, I swear. Maybe it's the whole country barrier thing, but I guess I didn't realize how important being magical was to you British people but in America when someone tells you they were dropped out of a window to prove a point I—"

"Alex!" Neville yells. Wow, I was rambling. When I look at him, he didn't seem that uncomfortable. Well, maybe slightly, but whatever.

"Sorry," I say. "It's just I don't know a lot of people here and I kind of need some friends."

"And you want to be my friend?" Neville looks absolutely shocked.

"Well, yeah. I wouldn't have gone looking for just anybody's toad." I say, as if it were obvious. But the smile on his face made it clear he had not been expecting that at all.

"Oh," he says.

"What?"

"I…" his cheeks begin to flush. "I thought you were making fun of me." He finishes quietly.

I stared at him. "Why would I make fun of you? And even if I was, why would you think I would make fun of your family? I mean, my family's one of the strangest groups of people I've ever met so _I_ certainly can't talk, but…"

He looks down, sheepishly.

"Has someone made fun of you because of your family?"

Neville squirms uncomfortably.

I take a seat on the bed and make sure he's looking at me. "Neville, I may be kind of rude and obnoxious sometimes, but that's only to people who deserve it. You will never apply to that ever growing list."

Neville smiles, then looks down. "Yeah, I suppose it was a bit thick of me to jump to conclusions like that. And I'm sorry I was avoiding you… suppose it's wasn't very Gryffindor of me, eh?"

"How so?"

"Well," he begins, sheepishly. "You heard what the Sorting Hat said, Gryffindor's for the brave of heart, and I'm…"

"Okay, Neville, you've got to stop putting yourself down so much. It'll only make it easier for other people to. Besides, the Sorting Hat's never wrong."

However, Neville doesn't seem to be cheered up by this.

I pause before looking at him as if this idea's just occurred to me. "In fact… congratulations, Neville, you are my new best friend!"

"S-Sorry?" Neville stammers, looking completely befuddled.

"Yes! This is gonna be awesome! I guarantee you this, Longbottom, stick with me and you'll never doubt your being a Gryffindor ever again."

Neville doesn't look like he believes it, but he smiles anyway.

* * *

*** Some lines are directly taken from ****_Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_**** by J.K. Rowling (and some from Wizards of Waverly Place)**


	6. Flying Lessons

**A/N: I do not own the Harry Potter Series or Wizards of Waverly Place. Please review! You have no idea how happy they make me.**

* * *

Chapter 6 — Flying Lessons

* * *

For the past week Neville and I haven't been spotted anywhere without the other. I think he's starting to realize how serious I was about this "best friend" thing. This week's also been a bit uneventful. I haven't gotten in any more trouble (mostly because I haven't had Snape's class since that day) and Neville hasn't had a single injury.

…Okay, so the week hasn't been _totally_ uneventful. Somehow, Justin found out about my detention. You can imagine how it went down when I told him Snape gave me detention for answering his question correctly. So, I walked away from him, annoyed that he wouldn't believe me, but he promised he'd be writing Mom and Dad. Also, on Monday we found on the notice board in the Common Room that we'd be starting our flying lessons on Thursday, which is to today! I'm really excited, but again, you can imagine how Neville is feeling. He says his grandmother never let him ride one.

When Neville, Hermione, and I reach the Great Hall, Hermione continues to spew flying tips that she's memorized from various books. She's almost as nervous as Neville; I guess reading doesn't exactly make for confident flyers. Even when we sit down, Hermione doesn't stop, the girl is on a roll. The thing that finally silences her is when the mail comes. Letters and packages fall from the ceiling at every corner of the room, not that it concerned me much. I hadn't received anything from my parents in a few days, so I was beginning to think Justin had been bluffing. But suddenly, I knew he had because as a small brown package fell into Neville's lap a small red envelope landed on the table in front of me. I knew Dad had sent it, because it appeared out of thin air. Neville glanced over and gasped at the sight of it.

"What? What is it?" I ask.

"T-That's a Howler!" he whispers, urgently.

"A what?"

I glance over in the direction of the Ravenclaw table and see Justin looking directly at me with a smug smile. Of course this was his doing. Neville quickly explains to me what a Howler is and I quickly run out of the Great Hall, clutching the letter and the key. When I'm in the Entrance Hall the letter begins to smoke. In a moment of panic the idea suddenly comes to me and I open a portal with the key.

"_Mailis Spontaneous_… Siberia!"

Luckily all the letter has time to get out is, "**_ALEXANDRA MARGARITA RUSSO!_**" in my mother's angry voice, before it disappears and I'm alone in the hall, humiliation free.

"Whoo!" I breathe, brushing myself off. "Well, now that that's done, it's time to kill Justin."

I walk back into the Great Hall, fully prepared to storm over to the Ravenclaw table, when I see Draco and his cronies headed straight for my friends. Ugh, what is this dude's problem? I quickly find Justin at his table and shoot him my I'll-kill-you-later stare before making my way back to the Gryffindors.

Just as I reach them, Draco snatches something out of Neville's hand (probably the something his owl delivered) and Harry and Ron jump to their feet ready to pounce.

"Hey, Draco," I interject.

The whole group turns to look at me. Draco suddenly doesn't look half as confident as he did a second ago.

"H-Hi, Alex." He stammers. His pale cheeks develop a slightly pink tint before he clears his throat and looks up at me. "I thought I saw you leaving."

"Oh, I did. My parents found out about my detention for Snape and they sent me a… what did you call it, Neville?"

Neville is gaping, shifting his eyes from Draco to me, as if he doesn't believe this situation, but he mumbles, "A Howler."

"Right," I say. "But, it's the Abominable Snowman's problem now."

Draco lets out an awkward laugh, still holding Neville's package behind his back, while Crabbe and Goyle follow suit.

"Hey," I say, suddenly, as if just noticing. "What's that you got behind your back, Draco?"

Draco looks like he's about to protest, but before he can Neville interrupts, "Malfoy's got my Remembrall."

Draco looks back and scowls at him.

"Oh, Draco," I say, disapprovingly. "I didn't think someone who has been so boastful about their packages from home every day needed to stoop so low as to steal other people's gifts."

Draco looks redder than ever as he drops the Remembrall back onto the table. "Just looking," he says, before him and his followers storm away, looking defeated. With a quick glance up at the High Table I see Professor McGonagall watching the scene and she gives me a nod.

"Thanks, Alex." Neville says, still looking as if he couldn't figure out if he had imagined what he'd just seen.

"How did you do that?" Ron blurts out, breaking the tension the scene had caused.

"Oh, honestly!" Hermione huffs, as if because she knew it to be obvious everyone else should. But instead of explaining she buries her nose back into a book entitled _Quidditch Through the Ages_.

* * *

Three thirty and a bell rings throughout the castle, signaling the end of lessons. The Gryffindor and Slytherin first years down in the dungeon begin to pack up their things to head out to the grounds. Neville and I are ready to go when Snape calls to me.

"Miss Russo, a moment?" he drawls, looking uninterested.

What? What did I do now? Neville stands awkwardly, not sure whether to stay or go but looks toward Snape as if he's the one in trouble.

"Go on ahead," I tell him. "I'll catch up."

He looks at me gratefully. "Good luck, I'll try to save you a broom." And then he sprints out of the room to catch up with the others.

I give a sigh, zip up my bag, put it on my shoulder and walk toward Snape's desk. His stare is unyielding as he patiently waits for me to be front and center.

"Yes… _professor_?" I finally say, begrudgingly.

Snape gives me a slight smirk. "Due to Mr. Longbottom's blunder last class I was unable to assign you your detention."

"Oh, it's okay," I say, waving my hand dismissively. "I didn't really mind."

He does not look amused. "Your detention shall take place tonight, be here at eight o'clock." He says curtly, before turning back to his parchment and quill.

I roll my eyes, but keep my voice polite. "See you then… professor."

* * *

I run on to the grounds just as the teacher, who looks oddly somewhat like a hawk, starts giving instructions.

"Stick your right hand over—the lesson has already begun; do try to be on time, young lady." She says, turning to me.

I mumble an apology and make my way to the lone broom next to Neville.

"Now, where was I?" Hawk-Lady wonders aloud. "Oh yes, everyone, stick your right hand over your broom and say 'Up!'"

There was a loud chant of "Up!"

Some of the brooms shot into their owner's hands immediately. Mine was not one of them. Sure it rolled over a little, but nothing else. Neville's didn't budge at all, but he looks perfectly okay with that. Eventually all of us get ahold of our brooms and mount them.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," the instructor says. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly."

I take a deep breath, tightening my grip on the broom handle.

"On my whistle—three—two—"

But before the whistle sounds, Neville is in the air rising much higher than a few feet. I watch helplessly as he shoots ten, fifteen, almost twenty feet into the air. He finally seems to become aware of his situation because he freaks out and slips off the broom. I look away just as he hits the ground with a nasty crunch.

A crowd surrounds Neville, and I try to fight my way to the front. The flying instructor succeeds and begins surveying Neville for injuries.

"Broken wrist," she mutters, then turns to the rest of us. "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

She leads Neville, whimpering and holding his wrist, back to the castle. I try to follow, but she tells me to stay put. When I return to the group, what greets me is definitely not welcoming or expected.

The Slytherins are simply weak with laughter. I'm about to lash out at them when Draco speaks. "Did you see his face, the great lump?"

W-What?! How dare he?! "Shut up, Malfoy!" I snap, glaring at him. He looks at me, as if he had forgotten I was there. In the back of my mind I notice it's the first time I've called him by his last name. It seemed like the thing to do, since everyone around here who don't like each other refer to each other with their surnames. And no matter how nice he pretends to be around me, I know Dr—Malfoy, is a jerk.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" Pansy Parkinson sneers at me. "Never thought _you'd_ like fat little crybabies, Russo,"

I narrow my eyes at her, crossing my arms. "And I never thought you'd like ferret-faced bullies, Parkinson, but that much seems obvious."

It's the Gryffindors' turn to laugh. Pansy begins to blush furiously before she shouts, "Shut it, you Yank!"

"Look!" says Dr—Malfoy suddenly, obviously trying to change the subject. He darts forward and picks something up off the ground. It's Neville's Remembrall. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

Really?! No hesitation needed, then. _Malfoy_ is a _jerk_! I'm about to go for the Remembrall myself when someone else speaks.

"Give that here, Malfoy,"

It's Harry. His voice is quiet but rings with authority. Everyone stops talking immediately, all looking to stare at the two of them.

Malfoy is smiling now, a challenging sneer. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find — how about — up a tree?"

But Harry is having none of it. "Give it _here_!"

Suddenly, Malfoy jumps onto his broom and soars into the air. So maybe he wasn't lying about being a good flyer all this time. He shoots up and levels out near the tops of the tree branches before he shouts, "Come and get it, Potter!"

Harry takes on a determined expression before grabbing his broom.

"_No_!" Hermione shouts, fighting the crowd to get to Harry. "Madam Hooch told us not to move — you'll get us all into trouble."

But Harry doesn't look like he's listening. He shoots into the air ("What. An. Idiot." Hermione grumbles) and hovers right over to Malfoy. Is flying this easy for everyone? Apparently not, because all the girls, even some Slytherins (however involuntarily) scream and gasp, while Ron lets out an admiring whoop.

"He's a natural!" someone breathes, in awe.

I can't see much of what's going on from the ground, but I can tell that Malfoy wasn't expecting this.

"Give it here, or I'll knock you off that broom!" Harry calls to him.

"Oh, yeah?"

Harry leans forward and darts straight toward the Slytherin, who only gets away just in time. Harry turns around mid-air and faces Malfoy again. A few people around me (only from Gryffindor, obviously) begin to applaud.

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry calls.

This is true; I can see that Crabbe and Goyle are looking slightly lost and confused, as if they were two very large toddlers, trying to figure out how someone got their noses.

"Catch it if you can, then!" Malfoy shouts before he throws the Remembrall high into the air. As he makes his descent back to the ground, Harry streaks after the ball on its way to smashing. But apparently Harry has experience on a broom because he maneuvers himself just so and topples gently into the grass, the Remembrall clutched safely in his hand.

Every Gryffindor (Hermione included, though a bit begrudgingly) is ready to make their praise heard, when we're cut off by another voice.

"HARRY POTTER!"

It was Professor McGonagall's.

* * *

*** I know it's not much of a cliffhanger, considering we know what happens, but the characters don't know that ;)**

**** Some lines are taken directly from ****_Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_**** by J.K. Rowling**

***** Some of the flying lessons scene is inspired by a story I read on another site. I'm not sure which but I'm sure you can Google it. It's called, "Hermione Granger and the Philosopher's Stone." It's the first book told from Hermione's POV and a really good read.**

****** Anyone else excited about Scholastic re-releasing the Harry Potter books with new covers? Let me know what you think.**


	7. Detention With The Bat

**A/N: As always, I do not own anything. And I post this, trying not to be too paranoid that no one reviewed the last chapter (I think you guys are giving me a bit of a big head). Please review so I can stop worrying. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 7 — Detention with the Bat

* * *

I look back and forth between Harry and Professor McGonagall, who is making her way across the grounds toward us. The usually strict teacher looks wide-eyed and almost beside herself with shock. Harry just looks quite bloodless and shaky waiting for her to reach him.

"_Never_—in all my time at Hogwarts—how _dare_ you—might have broken your neck—" She continues to babble, trying to comprehend what she just saw.

I just can't let him get in trouble for this. Not after what he did for Neville. "It wasn't his fault, Professor—"

But she isn't having it. "Be quiet, Miss Russo—"

"But Malfoy—"

"That's _enough_, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."

Miserably, Harry begins to follow after Professor McGonagall. When he passes me he hands me the Remembrall. "Make sure Neville gets this, will you?"

I look at him for a second in disbelief. He's going to be expelled and he still cares about if Neville gets his little trinket back?

"…Y-Yeah… sure Harry, thanks,"

He nods; still looking numb. Then he looks over to the Slytherins with their stupid, ugly, _triumphant_ faces. As soon as Harry and Professor McGonagall are out of sight I round on Draco.

"Listen, you cowardly, bullying, poor excuse of a human being, if Harry gets expelled for this—"

"He's not going to get expelled." Ron says, trying to look hopeful. "This is McGonagall. She might only give him a detention or something. What we need to do is make sure Madam Hooch doesn't find out about this. Otherwise he's out for sure."

"And what makes you think the Slytherins won't say anything?" asks Parvati Patil.

Ron shoots a look at me.

"Don't worry, I'll keep them in line." I say, shooting a particularly vindictive glare at _Malfoy_ whose confidence seems to quiver under it.

"Now," Ron begins, for some reason looking at Hermione. "I'm warning you Miss Know-It-All, one word of this and there won't be a book out there able to save you from me."

Hermione stares back at him indignantly, but before she can say anything…

"Excuse me," I say, rounding on him. "What exactly makes you think Hermione's gonna say anything? All she's been trying to do is keep Gryffindor out of trouble. She's not going to volunteer us for it."

Ron grumbles something then stalks away just as the flying instructor, Madam Hooch (I finally learned her name), emerges from the castle and starts toward us.

"Thanks," Hermione says, quietly as we all quickly start acting as if nothing has happened and Ron tells Madam Hooch some B.S. story to cover up why Harry is gone.

"No problem."

* * *

The rest of the lesson was considerably less exciting. We just hovered a few feet in the air and after half an hour it was over. When Hermione and I renter the castle I tell her I need to check on Neville and return his Remembrall. ("I hope he appreciates that thing, after all the trouble it's caused." Hermione sighs).

When I make it to the Hospital Wing I find Neville quickly, his wrist wrapped and lying in a bed. Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, is like, religious about her patients needing bed rest.

"Hey," I greet. He looks up, then looks back down, clearly embarrassed. But stupid me asks anyway. "How ya feelin'?"

"Like a fool." He deadpans.

"I meant your arm."

"Oh," he says. "Fine, Madam Pomfrey fixed it in about a minute. Won't let me leave, though,"

I don't really know how to respond, so I decide to change the subject. "You forgot your Remembrall." I say; handing it over, then laugh to myself at the irony.

"Oh, thanks," he blushes again. "Malfoy make a grab for it?"

I chuckle again. "You have _no _idea."

* * *

I tell Neville everything, of course. He seems genuinely surprised and then embarrassed that Harry went through so much trouble just for him.

By the time Neville is released from the hospital wing dinner has just ended and it is time for my detention with Snape. Neville and I part ways and I head for the dungeons.

* * *

"Sit, Miss Russo." Is his form of greeting.

"Wow, really?" I say. "Don't I at least get a gold star for showing up on time? Or showing up at all? That _is_ very new for me, ya know."

Snape looks up from his cauldron with an unamused sneer. "Miss Russo, you have already cost your house points in your first week at Hogwarts, would you like to continue your streak whilst _in_ detention?"

"Alright, I get it." I say, unshouldering my bag and plopping down onto a stool. "You're not a cheery kind of person."

Snape chooses to ignore me. "You will be doing some lines for me tonight."

What? "Really? That's it?"

"Yes, well, it seems Professor McGonagall thinks my detentions are a bit too… challenging for first years, so she has seen to your punishment's modification."

"Awesome!" I say, chirpily. "So how many lines?"

* * *

UGH! This guy is seriously too vindictive and psychotic to be teaching children! I mean, writing "I must not speak out of turn" three hundred times?! What kind of fresh hell is this?

"C'mon, dude, I've been doing this for hours. I'm at like, a hundred and ten; can't we just call it a night?"

Snape rolls his eyes before focusing on me. "First of all, you will refer to me as Professor Snape only; second, it hasn't yet been an hour and a half, don't exaggerate; and thirdly, you will complete three hundred lines and then you will leave."

"Professor," I mumble to myself, bitterly. "Give me a break."

"What was that, Miss Russo?"

I fix him with a cold glare. "I said I will not call you Professor because you do not deserve that title."

"Why you insolent, little—"

"No, let me finish, I'm on a roll." I say. "A Professor does not intentionally bully and make fun of his students. I don't care about your stupid house loyalties, but when you pick on the Gryffindors for no reason—"

"Miss Russo—"

"Excuse me, _Snape_, but I'm not done." I stand up defiantly. "To call a first year an idiot because he makes one mistake when brewing a potion for the first time—"

"He caused an accident in my classroom—"

"That you were able to clean up with a flick of your wand." I say, still giving him the coldest stare I can muster. "Not to mention quizzing a student impossible questions to answer in their first lesson with you and intentionally trying to humiliate them—"

"Questions you were perfectly equip to answer as I recall." Snape looks crazy angry now. I'm not quite sure if any student has called him on his crap before.

"Only because…" I was starting to lose steam now. "As it turns out I'm kind of a potions nerd. This was the first class I've ever really cared about. I was actually looking forward to it, until _you_ ruined it for me. And why would you give me detention for answering the questions you asked?!"

Snape huffs, then returns to his stool. "I refuse to explain my methods to a lazy, boisterous, show-off." He picks up a book from his desk and starts angrily flipping through the pages. "Figures you'd be one of Potter's admirers."

"That's another thing." I say. I'm getting this feeling I should really shut up, that I'm already in enough trouble, but when have I ever listened to _that_ feeling? "Why do you hate Harry so much?"

Snape pushes his book away, then groans, rubbing his temples. "Well, congratulations are in order once again, Miss Russo. You have _annoyed_ yourself out of detention. Turn in the lines you have done. I will be taking another ten points from Gryffindor due to your… _you_."

I'm getting the feeling I touched a nerve. I'm curious to know more, but never in my life have I turned down a "get out of jail free" card.

"Well, if you insist." I say, skipping to the front of the class and presenting my parchment.

"Thank you." He mutters. "Now get out of my sight."

* * *

_Well that was weird_, I think to myself as I begin climbing the giant marble staircase toward Gryffindor tower on the seventh floor. You'd think with all this magic flying around here someone would create an elevator. By the third floor I'm clutching my side, panting and groaning in my usual over the top demeanor. I catch the attention of some ghosts, but wave them off with a quick, "You have no idea how painful this is!" Once they seem thoroughly offended they glide away.

I take a deep breath then continue climbing. That was quite an _interesting_ detention I think. Snape obviously doesn't like being _asked_ the questions. Though, I guess he doesn't like them answered either, proof of why it happened at all. I still think he has something against Harry; definitely need to look more into that.

I stop on the stairs almost abruptly. Wait, why? Why am I so interested in this kid's life? I don't know him, it's not like I'm really friends with him. Sure I stood up for him in Potions, kind of indirectly, but still that was it. It's their business and I'm going to stay out of it… Oh, god, I hope I didn't just jinx that.

* * *

By the time I reach the portrait of the Fat Lady (No joke, that is literally her name, I'm not trying to be mean or anything, I swear) I am so thoroughly exhausted I simply announce the password ("Pig snout,") and head straight for the girl's tower.

"Alex?"

I turn from the next staircase, kind of relieved, because I was honestly not ready for any more stairs, to see Hermione, the lone person left in the Common Room sitting in an arm chair by the fire.

"Where have you been? You weren't at dinner. Oh, you haven't been getting into trouble have you? That's the last thing Gryffindor needs—"

"Hermione," I interrupt. "Chill out. I went to visit Neville in the Hospital Wing. By the time he was released dinner was over and I had to go to my detention for Snape."

Hermione seems to catch her breath. "Oh, I'm so sorry. How was it? Was it awful?"

I laugh a little. This girl needs to be on Prozac or something. "It could've been worse, I guess. He said something about Professor McGonagall reining in the punishment he was going to give me."

Hermione sits there quietly for a moment, probably thinking of what horrors would have faced me if McGonagall, her new idol, hadn't been there to save me.

"You haven't seen Neville, have you?" I ask.

"No," Hermione admits. "He probably came up earlier. I'm not quite sure; I was in the library from after dinner to curfew."

I laugh again. I've only known Hermione for a couple of weeks, but I'm sensing her going to the library is going to be a more than regular thing. "For any particular reason this time, or just for the fun of it?"

Hermione blushes. "A particular reason; Malfoy challenged Harry to a Wizard's Duel and he and Ron are going to try to sneak out of the tower tonight. If they get caught, which they will, then Gryffindor will be in even more trouble."

"What?" Okay, I'm seriously confused. Harry wasn't expelled? "Why would you need to go to the library for something like that?"

Hermione looks down sadly. "I thought I'd brush up on some defensive spells just in case. They might need my help… or, they might attack me if I try to interfere. You heard Ron earlier on the grounds. He hates me…"

"Hermione," I say, very seriously. "If either of them tries to hurt you I will personally make sure they end up in the Hospital Wing themselves. I don't need magic to inflict pain."

Hermione gives me a grateful smile before it quickly shifts into what I've started calling her "idea face."

"What?" I ask, cautiously.

"You can help me. They're bound to at least listen if you're here. I know they don't know you that well either, but they don't hate you. After that thing with Malfoy this morning…"

"But I didn't do anything special," I interrupt. "The only reason he listened to me is because he has some weird crush on me."

"They don't know that." Hermione shrugs. "Boys are too thick headed at this age to realize that. All they know is that you got Malfoy to back down, they probably respect you for it. Just please help me?!"

I look from Hermione's pleading eyes to the girl's dormitories, thinking about my soft warm bed. It really had been a long day. "Ugh, fine! I'll help."

Hermione squeals, giving me a bone crushing hug. She really is stronger than she lets on. As we settle into armchairs by the fire, all I can think is that, _Well, how much worse can this night get?_

* * *

**_* _****Some lines are taken directly from ****_Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_**** by J.K. Rowling**

**** Again, the flying lessons scene was inspired by ****_Hermione Granger and the Philosopher's Stone, _****author seemingly unlisted. It's a very good story and I hope other people will read it. Here's the link: . .at/~ **


	8. Midnight Wanderings & Ferocious Monsters

**A/N: I like to think that we learn something new every day. One thing I learned a couple days ago is what happens when you try to post a link in your story. I hope this clears up any confusion concerning the gibberish at the end of the last chapter. Now here's something I hope you all know by now: I do NOT own Harry Potter or Wizards of Waverly Place. I'd like to dedicate this chapter to two people. First to HpHgPj, whose review totally lifted my spirits. I'm trying not to care too much about reviews, but those things are like crack or chocolate to me. The second person I'd like to dedicate the chapter to is someone I actually know in real life who's having a birthday today. You know who you are. I really do appreciate all the reviews, though; you guys make me feel so loved. Now, enjoy the next chapter!**

* * *

Chapter 8 — Midnight Wanderings and Ferocious Monsters

* * *

"You! Go back to bed!"

This is advice I am very willing to take. But why is the stupid voice waking me up only to tell me to go back to sleep?

Then I remember where I am and what I'm doing.

I'm in the Gryffindor Common Room, half asleep on one of the ridiculously comfortable arm chairs. It's around 11:30 and I'm staying up with Hermione to make sure Harry and Ron don't sneak out to a Wizard's Duel with Malfoy.

Well, obviously I'm doing the "staying up" part too well. Hermione suddenly reaches over and shakes me. ("Alex, get up!" she hisses). I rub my eyes and straggle to my feet.

"Alex?" Harry says, clearly surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Hmm?" I ask, still tired. "Oh, hi, guys. Hermione was worried about you so she asked if I could help her keep you from going."

Hermione blushes at this. "I-I wasn't worried about them… I was worried about Gryffindor." She turns her attention toward Ron. "I almost told your brother, Percy—he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this."

It seems Hermione's momentary urge to tattle was the only thing that registered with them because Harry and Ron each shoot Hermione looks (One of disbelief and one of annoyance) before Harry beckons Ron to follow him out of the portrait hole.

"Well," I sigh, yawning slightly. "We gave it our best shot. Time for bed!"

"No," Hermione says firmly before grabbing my arm and ushering me out the portrait hole behind her. "I'm not giving up on them yet. They'll see to reason, I know it."

I only have the time to think, _Not likely_, before the portrait of the Fat Lady closes behind me.

We catch up with them and Hermione quickly begins her obviously rehearsed lecture. "Don't you _care _about Gryffindor, do you _only _care about yourselves, _I _don't want Slytherin to win the House Cup, and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells."

"Go away." Ron mumbles to her, not even looking back.

"All right," Hermione begins, seemingly resigned. _She couldn't have done that a minute ago?_ "But I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so—"

Hermione stops dead in her sentence. I follow her gaze and see that the Fat Lady is gone and that we're locked out. _Damn moving pictures_!

Hermione turns to look at me. "Now what are we going to do?"

"That's your problem," Ron says, looking back at us quickly. It's clear that any respect I gained with him was lost the moment I sided with Hermione. "We've got to go," he says to Harry. "We're going to be late."

Looking thoughtful for a moment, Hermione grabs my arm once again (_Damn, she's strong_) and hauls me down the corridor after the two boys. "We're coming with you."

"You are _not._" Ron says, firmly.

"D'you think we're going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch us? If he finds all four of us I'll tell him the truth, that Alex and I were trying to stop you, and you can back me up."

"You've got some nerve —" says Ron loudly, before being cut off.

"Shut up, both of you!" Harry hisses. "I heard something."

That's when I hear it too. It's a sort of snuffling noise. Just as Ron starts to speculate it might be Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, I spot the source of the sound. It's Neville, fast asleep in a ball on the floor.

"Neville!" I call. He immediately wakes up as we get closer.

"Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours; I couldn't remember the new password to get in to bed."

I instantly feel awful. I must have walked right passed him on my way up from detention.

"Keep your voice down, Neville." Ron says, hurriedly. "The password's 'Pig snout' but it won't help you now; the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere."

"How's your arm?" asks Harry.

Neville blushes slightly, obviously remembering it was Harry who had saved his Remembrall earlier today. Wow, that happened today? It seems like so much has happened since then. He quickly assures them he's healed.

"Good — well, look, Neville, we've got to be somewhere, we'll see you later —"

"Don't leave me!" Neville says, scrambling to his feet. I'm glad he said something, because if he didn't I would have. "I don't want to stay here alone; the Bloody Baron's been past twice already."

Ron looks at his watch, then shifts his glare toward me, Hermione, and Neville. "If any of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about, and used it on you."

I simply roll my eyes at this, but I don't think he notices. _Make all the vague threats you want, _Weasley_, you don't scare me_.

* * *

The five of us walk in silence, all the way to the trophy room, the pre-decided location for the duel. Now that we're here, and find it completely uninhabited, it all starts to click for me.

"This whole thing seems really stupid." I say, untroubled by the looks Harry and Ron shoot at me. "Why would you have a Wizard's Duel if both of you only know, like, two spells?"

"That's not the point." Ron huffs. "Malfoy challenged and we couldn't back down."

"You don't actually think he's going to show up, do you?" I ask. "If I know Draco—"

"And you know _Draco,_ do you?" is the snapped response. This surprisingly came from Harry, but I was too busy scolding myself for forgetting to refer to him by last name to think about his reaction too heavily.

Then another noise sounds from the next room making us all jump. Harry and Ron raise their wands quickly. Then a voice floats in from the other room, and it is _definitely_ not _Malfoy_'s.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."

_Crap!_ Harry gestures for us to follow him and we all as quietly and quickly as possible exit the trophy room. Filch is still muttering to himself, only now it's coming from the room we were just in. We begin to creep down a corridor lined with suits of armor, still able to hear the caretaker's ever nearing footsteps. All seems well, until I hear a horribly loud clanging noise and whip my head around to see Ron and Neville lying at the base of a fallen metal knight.

The time for tiptoeing and shallow breathing is over.

"RUN!"

All five of us run without looking back, no idea where we're going and not really caring about it. We run and run until we begin to slow down. Either we haven't been followed—meaning Filch is the worst caretaker _ever_—or he hasn't caught up yet.

I only now just realized how out of breath I am. Between this and my earlier escapade to Gryffindor Tower, I'm looking forward to never, _ever_ walking, running, or moving ever again.

_Where are we?_ I want to ask, but am too winded to put into words. I look up and recognize Professor Flitwick's door a little ways down the hall. We're in the Charms corridor.

"I think we've lost him," Harry pants, leaning up against a wall. Neville is bent over, wheezing, and Ron's face is the same shade as his hair.

"I—knew—it! I—_knew_—it!" Hermione gasps. "Alex—you—were—right!"

"We've got to get back to Gryffindor Tower," Ron says, "quickly as possible."

"Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room," Hermione continues. "Malfoy must have tipped him off."

Harry looks thoroughly angry with himself, but obviously not up to admitting it. "Let's go."

* * *

Just when I thought this night might be finally over… what a joke. Stupid _Peeves_; Stupid _not-really-a-ghost-why-does-he-have-to-exist-Peeves_, why'd he have to show up?

We hadn't even caught our breath when he showed up and ratted us out.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves had bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

That jerk. That _bipolar_ jerk. One minute he's leading Filch right to us and the next he's stalling for us to get away. We would've been done for if Hermione hadn't unlocked that door. Unfortunately that's where we met the three-headed dog. Yep, you read me. A freakin' giant three-headed dog straight out of Greek hell. In a boarding school no less.

Now the five of us are all recovering in Gryffindor Tower after another awful spout of running. Now that the terror is over all I can think about is what the headmaster had said at the Welcome feast.

_"And finally, I must tell you that this year; the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."_

At the time I'd thought he was kidding. Now I know that it was not only a fact. It was an understatement.

Ron's the first to speak. "What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school? If any dog needs exercise, that one does."

Hermione speaks next, clearly beside herself with anger.

"You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" she snaps. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"

"The floor?" Harry suggests. I frown at this. _That was going to be my answer_. "I wasn't looking at its feet; I was too busy with its heads."

"No, _not _the floor, it was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something." She stands up, glaring at Harry and Ron. "I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed — or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed. Come on, Alex," then without looking back, she marches herself up the girl's staircase.

Ron stares after her open mouthed.

"No, we don't mind," he says. "You'd think we dragged her along, wouldn't you?"

That leaves Harry, Ron, Neville, and me. When Harry and Ron turn their gaze to me, waiting for me to follow Hermione's order, I take the hint and stand from the arm chair.

"Well," I begin, looking at each of them. "This was… fun, I guess. Let's hope it never happens again. I'll see you in the morning Neville." And with that I sprint up the stairs, quite used to running and climbing by now.

As soon as I enter our dorm, Hermione is climbing into her bed, hissing madly. "I can't believe those two! We almost died out of their stupidity."

For a second I think about saying, _We wouldn't have even been there if you hadn't tried to stop them_, but I don't quite feel like getting my eyes scratched out on top of everything else that's happened today. So I keep my mouth shut and quickly drift off to sleep after this supremely long and awful day.

* * *

*** Some lines are directly taken from ****_Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone _****by J.K. Rowling**


	9. All Hallows Eve

**A/N: I don't own either Harry Potter or Wizards of Waverly Place**

* * *

Chapter 9 — All Hallows Eve

* * *

After that night things around school have been pretty uneventful. Well… I guess not completely.

Mom and Dad must have thought I learned my lesson from that Howler I never listened to, because they sent me a new cauldron last week. It was accompanied with a letter depicting not anger but disappointment, which always kind of sucks. I knew trying to explain what really happened would be pointless so I simply replied with a 'thank you' and an 'I promise I'll do better.'

Harry and Ron hadn't talked to either me or Hermione since that night. I didn't really think that much of it, but still… McGonagall's whole "Your House is like your family" speech still bugged me at the back of my mind.

This silence between the four of us has had its advantages though. A few days after the Cerberus incident it was Hermione's twelfth birthday; after a quick talk with the twinkly-eyed headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, and a little help from Cedric, the cute Hufflepuff third year, I got a chocolate cake at the Gryffindor table and a bunch of transfigured party hats. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a little satisfying seeing Ron's longing gaze as I passed out the slices making it perfectly clear who they were for. Either way Hermione was really grateful; she didn't even comment on how bad it was for our teeth.

…Unfortunately, there were some disadvantages too. About a week later five or six owls flew into the Great Hall during breakfast carrying a long, thin package and dropped it right in front of Harry. Naturally, a slew of questions formed in my head immediately, but of course I couldn't ask them. Luckily I didn't wonder for too long.

That afternoon Hermione returned to our dorm huffing and wailing about Harry breaking the rules and being rewarded for it by getting on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Now, I wasn't exactly sure what 'Quidditch' was (the name's vaguely familiar from when Hermione checked out a book on it before our flying lessons) but I didn't feel the need to ask; I can tell when someone's on a rant and doesn't really need anyone to respond.

But now, to the present. Today is Halloween, my absolute _favorite_ holiday. Apparently Halloween's a pretty big deal around here too, because we're supposed to have this big feast tonight. Unfortunately, though, we still have classes.

* * *

"Alright everyone," tiny Professor Flitwick announces over the noise, trying to call the class's attention. "I'd quiet down if I were you! Otherwise you'll never learn the levitation spell!"

This silences the room instantly. Everybody, including me, had wanted to learn how to make things fly ever since Professor Flitwick made Trevor the toad zoom around the room. I felt bad for Neville, but it was way too awesome to think about it for too long.

Just as I start imagining Trevor, the amazing flying frog, with his very own cape and catchphrase Professor Flitwick begins pairing us up.

"Lavender and Parvati," (Cue girly squeal here)

"Neville and Seamus,"

"Ron and Hermione," (Two groans sound, one much more obvious than the other).

"Harry and Alexandra, and Dean, you will be working with me." Professor Flitwick finishes before the room scatters into pairs.

There's definitely a tense silence between Harry and I as we sit at our table. Neither of us speaks until we are each attempting to make the feathers on the desktop fly.

"_Wingardium Leviosa!"_ We each call, but neither feather budges. I thought mine might have shifted a little, but that was just wishful thinking.

I can hear Ron and Hermione arguing from nearby, but I would be stupid to not have expected that. Harry and I each make a few more attempts to make our feathers fly, but to no avail. I'm just _way_ too distracted.

"So…" I begin trying to make conversation. "I heard you're on the Gryffindor Quidditch team now."

Harry suddenly looks wide-eyed and panicked. "How did you know that?"

I'm a little surprised at his response, but continue on. "Hermione told me. She says that big package you got a few weeks ago was a broom."

Realization dons Harry's face. "Oh, listen, you can't tell anyone. It's supposed to be a secret until the first match."

"Alright," I say shrugging. "Sorry, I didn't realize it was such a big deal. I remember the letters they sent us said we couldn't have brooms, but whatever." I start messing with my feather so I don't have to look at him.

"No, I know." Harry says. "But when Professor McGonagall saw me catch Neville's Remembrall she recommended me to the Quidditch captain."

I smile, despite myself. "I bet Malfoy loved that."

He smiles, too, as if remembering something extremely satisfying. "Definitely made an impression on him,"

We're quiet again and each try once again, in vain, to get our feathers in the air.

"Oh, well done!" Professor Flitwick cries suddenly, his little hands clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"

I turn back to see Hermione levitating a feather a few feet above her and Ron's heads. I clap along with Professor Flitwick to show my support. When I look back at Harry I see he's frowning slightly.

I restrain myself from rolling my eyes. "She's really not that bad, you know."

Harry shifts his gaze from Hermione's flying feather back to me.

"I know she's a real stickler for the rules and everything," I continue. "But she really just wants to keep us all out of trouble. Her heart's in the right place."

Harry looks slightly uncomfortable again. So I decide to change the subject.

"So, Quidditch, huh? I'm still not really sure what it is, but everyone seems to think it's really cool."

I knew this was the right move to make, because Harry suddenly goes into a long explanation of his meeting with the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, Oliver Wood, and how he explained the game to him.

* * *

When the lesson ends Ron quickly comes over and ushers Harry out of the classroom without a goodbye. _Well,_ I think to myself, _at least Harry doesn't hate me anymore_. I look around the room for my friends but only find Neville. Hermione has already left.

I start to get worried when Hermione doesn't show up for our next class. Her skipping was just not something that happened. After lessons were over for the day me and Neville head to the library, but find her nowhere. After that we immediately go up to the Hospital Wing to see if she had checked herself in after charms, but she isn't there either.

Before I know it I'm walking into the Great Hall for the Halloween feast. I'm momentarily distracted by the sheer awesomeness of the Jack-O-Lantern and bat infested room. I keep looking around, though, keeping my eyes peeled for a head of bushy brown hair.

"Do you see her?" I ask Neville as we sit down at the Gryffindor table.

"No," Neville replies, looking worried.

"Are you talking about Hermione Granger?" someone asks down the bench. I turn and see it's Parvati Patil.

"Yeah, have you seen her?"

"Yeah, she's been in the girl's bathroom all afternoon, crying. When I asked her what was wrong she just said she wanted to be left alone."

"What? Why?"

Parvati just shrugs, but I think I have an idea of who is responsible.

* * *

"Weasley!" I shout after charging down the table. Ron and Harry jump at the sound of my voice and turn to me. "What did you say to her?"

"What are you talking about?" Ron asks, but he looks a bit awkward, so I get the feeling he knows exactly what I'm talking about.

"Hermione, that's what I'm talking about. She's been missing since charms and Parvati just told me she's spent all day crying in the bathroom. You were the last person to see her and have been a complete ass to her since the moment you met, so I'll say it again. 'What. Did. You. Say?'"

Ron looks even more uncomfortable now, but remains quiet. Then I look toward Harry and he suddenly becomes very interested in the tablecloth.

"I can't believe you two." I say, getting angry now. "You honestly don't care about her feelings at all, do you?"

To their credit, both Harry and Ron look thoroughly ashamed of themselves. But at this point I honestly don't care.

"Unbelievable. You two are just as bad as _Malfoy_!" and before they can say anything I storm out of the Great Hall, receiving many curious glances. Hopefully Harry and Ron will have some difficult questions to answer.

* * *

When I arrive at the girl's bathroom the first thing I hear is sniffling. I am immediately racked with guilt. I can't believe she's been like this for hours and I didn't even know about it. Some friend I am.

"Hermione?" I ask, cautiously, as I venture farther into the room.

The room goes suddenly quiet. "W-Who's there?" Hermione chokes.

"It's me, Alex, are you alright?"

_Well that was a stupid question_, I think to myself. Either way I get no response. Just some more sniffling.

"Hermione, whatever Ron said to you doesn't matter, alright? And it probably isn't true either. Could you please just talk to me?"

Hermione lets out another sob. "Why are you even here?"

"Because you're upset and I'm your friend—"

"Why are you my friend?"

I'm taken a little aback at this question. "What kind of stupid question is that?"

The stall door suddenly bursts open. Hermione's face is flushed, her eyes are red and streaming, and she's looking at me with a livid expression I wasn't even sure was possible to construct on her face.

"Take that back!" she snaps viciously. "I may be a lot of things, but I am _not_ stupid!"

_Whoa_. "Okay, jeez, I take it back." I say, backing up from her.

"_Good_!" she says, her shoulders lowering slightly. "Now tell me, why are you my friend?"

Behind all the sudden anger I can somewhat see a yearning look in her eyes, like she really needs to know. I've never really had to explain my reasons for liking certain people before, so this could be tricky.

"I-I… well…"

"Is it because you feel sorry for me?!" Hermione asks, still looking outraged. "Is it to get my help in classes? Is it so you can have a laugh about making me think that for the first time I thought someone cared about me and wanted to be my friend?! Because if that's the case—"

"NO!" I shout, trying to make her see reason. "Hermione, how could you think any of that? You _are_ my friend. And not because I feel sorry for you or because you help me with school. I became your friend before I knew how smart you were. I became your friend because I'm in an entirely new country where I only knew one person who wishes I hadn't come here at all. The only other friend I've ever had might as well be on the other side of the world. This is all new to me and I just needed to have someone be there for me, and I thought that was what you needed too. I am actually insulted you'd think I could ever be so horrible as to fake a friendship just to laugh about it. I thought you knew me better than that."

We're each silent now and breathing heavily. Before I know what's happening Hermione is giving me another one of her signature bone crushing hugs, only this time she's sobbing into my shoulder.

"Oh, Alex, I'm so, so sorry! Ron just got the idea into my head that… no, no it was me who over thought it to death. Oh, please forgive me for shouting at you! I'm so, so sorry…"

"Hey, calm down!" I say, prying her arms off of me to look her in the eyes. "I forgive you, but you've really got to have some more respect for yourself. Just because someone wants to be your friend doesn't mean they have some ulterior motive to humiliate you. I don't care what happened at your last school. I am your friend, and so is Neville. And we think you're awesome, alright?"

She smiles, wiping her last few tears away.

"Okay, good, now let's get out of here. The Halloween feast is still going on and everything looks incredible."

I turn around, taking her arm, ready to lead us back to the Great Hall when I see a sight that stops me dead in my tracks. A creature so tall it has to hunch over to accommodate the ceiling; its body gray and lumpy, like a toddler's clay creation, only having the faintest idea of what a body should look like; short legs, long arms (which held a very _heavy_ looking wooden club); and a smell, so unbelievably revolting there were simply no words to describe it.

My first thought was: _You've got to be kidding me!_

And the next? _AHHHHHHH!_

I didn't really have a plan in mind before I started acting. I yelled a quick "_RUN_!" to Hermione before I sprinted through the monster's legs and made a break for the door. As soon as I got there I pulled on the door, but it wouldn't budge. _Locked? Seriously?! Is this someone's idea of a joke?_

There's a high pitched scream and I turn around. Hermione is backed into the wall, frozen in fear, and the creature is getting nearer and nearer. I had only assumed Hermione had been right behind me, but it seems her horror has robbed her muscles of movement. I dive between the giant's legs again and join Hermione against the wall.

"Hermione, c'mon, we've got to move!"

Even with the door locked and us trapped in here with a deadly beast I just had to believe that there was some way out of this. I tried to think of a spell, any spell, I'd learned in the past two months that could help us, but was too petrified as this giant, odorous _thing_ continued to advance on us, knocking down the porcelain sinks simply by bumping into them.

God, please, something save us, _anything_!

There was a sudden loud bang as the door burst open. Relief and gratitude rush through me as I try to look past the monster and see the face of our savior. Certainly the professors would know if there was a monster loose in their school.

"Confuse it!" I hear a voice shout. A… familiar voice. I'm finally able to see past the creature and see me and Hermione's heroes. _Harry _and _Ron_?!

_Yep, we're dead._

They're both making a lot of noise, which echoes off the tiled walls. Are they trying to get someone's attention? Why'd they come here alone? Why'd they come at all?

"Oy, pea-brain!" Ron yells and then a metal pipe hits the floor after bouncing off the monster's shoulder.

As the monster advances toward him Harry runs around them, making his way towards us. "Come on, run, _run_!"

"What do you think we've been trying to do?!" I ask, frustrated as I tug on Hermione's robes. "Come on, Hermione, we have to move!" But she is still scared stiff, her mouth hanging open.

With the monster closing in on Ron I see Harry do one of the bravest and stupidest things I've ever seen. With its back to us Harry runs and jumps onto the beast, locking his arms around its thick neck. The giant suddenly stiffens and lets out a howl of pain. It begins to twist and turn violently, Harry flailing along with its movements. Wait; is that a wand in its nose?

Hermione's body seems to give out and I'm the only thing keeping her standing. I look toward Ron who has his own wand out. I never thought my life would be in the hands of Ron Weasley, but I hope for all of our sakes he's more than what I've witnessed.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!"

_He's an idiot!_

The monster's club leaves its grasp and begins to hover over its head. Then with a gut twisting crack the club lands on the creature's head.

_He's a genius!_

The monster wobbles momentarily before it falls to the ground, face first, causing the whole room to shake.

Harry climbs off the thing's back looking pale, his eyes still vibrating. Ron still has his wand in the air but he's starring open mouthed down at the monster, complete disbelief written all over his face. Hermione seems to be coming to her senses now that the danger is over and is the first among us to speak.

"Is it — dead?"

"I don't think so," Harry says, "I think it's just been knocked out." Then he leaned over it and pulled his wand out from the nostril. My lunch threatens to make a reappearance at the sight of what it's coated in. it looks like old, clumpy glue.

"Ugh," he says, wiping off his wand on his pants. "Troll bogies,"

_A troll?!_

Before any of us can say anything else the door bangs open once again. Was someone finally coming to save the four first years from a _freaking troll_?! Then appear Professor McGonagall, Quirrell, and Snape. As soon as Quirrell sees the troll, though, he sits down on the nearest toilet, clutching his heart.

_That's over acting if I've ever seen it._

As Snape looks over the troll with a slight sneer McGonagall looks between Harry and Ron, unimaginable fury painting her features. Hermione and I are still pressed against the wall, and Ron still has his wand up, so I guess I can see why she isn't looking at us.

"What on earth were you thinking of? You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

"Please, Professor McGonagall — they were looking for us."

It was Hermione who spoke. I turn to look at her and she gives me a look that clearly says, "Please don't talk."

"Miss Granger!" Professor McGonagall says surprised, as if she's just noticed we're here. Hermione steps forward from the wall timidly, but determinedly.

"I went looking for the troll because I — I thought I could deal with it on my own — you know, because I've read all about them. Alex tried to stop me, but I wouldn't listen. If they hadn't found us, we'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish us off when they arrived."

Ron drops his wand in surprise. And I'm right there with him. Why is she doing this? Why can't she just tell them the truth?

"Well — in that case… Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"

Hermione hangs her head in shame. I don't understand. _What is she doing_?!

"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this. I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor Tower. Students are finishing the feast in their Houses."

Hermione take off out of the bathroom without another word.

"Miss Russo," Professor McGonagall says, turning her gaze toward me. "Please go with her to ensure she doesn't endanger herself on the trip up. And do a better job of it this time."

I would've been insulted, but I needed answers. And Answers must already be halfway down the corridor. With a quick nod to Professor McGonagall and a thankful smile to Harry and Ron I run out of the room after Hermione.

* * *

"Hey, wait up!" I call. Hermione turns around and stops when she sees me. "Do you mind explaining to me what the hell that was all about?"

Hermione takes on a weird expression. The only way I can describe it is, 'Superiorly Confused.' "Well, I thought it would be obvious."

I scoff. "Well if it is, it is to everyone but me."

Hermione sighs heavily. I'm not sure if it was out of annoyance or because we had just started up the marble staircase to the seventh floor. "If I had told the Professors that I was in the bathroom because Ron made me cry then they would've gotten in trouble. I thought since they'd just saved our lives I'd give them a free pass."

"Huh," I say, still climbing. "I guess I'm more vindictive than that."

Hermione lets out a small chuckle. When we get back to the common room she absolutely refuses to let us get any food until Harry and Ron show up. When they do we're all too embarrassed about the whole thing to look at each other, but we manage to mumble a quick "Thanks," before getting ourselves plates.

* * *

The next morning in the Great Hall, Harry and Ron voluntarily sit right down next to us, and the conversation flows easily enough.

I resist the urge to ask, "So, is this a thing now?" because all I can think about is how they rescued us from a real troll. Now, I'm not saying that's the only reason we all become friends, but I don't think I couldn't be friends with someone I shared that experience with.

* * *

*** Some lines are directly taken from ****_Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone _****by J.K. Rowling**

**** Personally, it took me forever to figure out why Hermione lied for them, go figure!**


	10. My New Favorite Sport

**A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to update. Oh! Wait, "I do not own Harry Potter or Wizards of Waverly Place." There, now that that's out of the way, moving on. This chapter took me a little longer because I had most of the others written before I even decided to create my FanFiction account so I was able to post new chapters every few days. I'll try not to take as long next time. Now, please, enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 10 — My New Favorite Sport

* * *

So, yeah, the friendship thing has been working out. I kind of split my time between them and Neville, but Hermione spends most of her time with Harry and Ron now. I guess since she finally got the acceptance she wanted from them she's not letting go. I try to not think about it too much.

Anyway, life at Hogwarts continues to go on. The first Quidditch match is today and everyone's making a really big deal out of it. I think some of it has to do with Harry. Somehow, word spread that he became Seeker for Gryffindor. Every time I've hung around him lately people have been either wishing him luck and telling him he'll be great or mocking him and saying he's most likely going to die. Neither of these seems to make Harry feel too good.

I'm heading up to the stands with Neville when Hermione and Ron catch up with us.

"Hi guys," Ron greets.

"Hello." Neville responds.

"New development on the three-headed dog!" Ron says excitedly.

Neville instantly pales. "No, I don't want to hear it!" and he scurries ahead of us toward the Quidditch stadium at a sprint.

"Well, I do!" I say.

Hermione begins telling me, half-heartedly, about Harry and Ron's theory of Snape trying to get past the Cerberus on Halloween.

"Snape? _Really_?"

"Yep," Ron says confidently, "Harry heard everything, but Hermione still refuses to see reason."

"Your reason being that Snape is vile so of course he's evil?" Hermione asks rhetorically, arching an eyebrow.

"Hermione!" Ron says, exasperatedly, partly due to annoyance and partly due to the fact we've just started climbing the stands. "Harry and I saw him running around on Halloween when the troll got in. And now Harry's seen he's got a wounded leg and was complaining about not being able to watch all _three_ heads."

"He's got a point," I shrug.

Hermione lets out a sigh. "I'm sticking with my original statement. He's a Hogwarts teacher and Dumbledore trusts him, we should too."

Now, I'm not saying I think Snape is legitimately _evil_ but I wouldn't trust that man with anything.

We're at the top of the stands now, with surprisingly good seats along the front row. We find Neville sitting next to a few empty ones, but as soon as he spots us he shoves two glove clad fingers into his ears and begins to sing softly to himself.

"Don't worry, Nev." I say, patting his shoulder. "We're done."

He sighs with relief then pulls a pair of binoculars from his robes, looking toward the sky.

"So, Alex, have you got the banner?" Hermione asks.

I'm about to pull it from my robes pocket, but decide to have a little fun with her. "Why?"

Hermione looks confused for a second before continuing. "We need it for the match… to support Harry."

I look around, as if just noticing where I am. "Oh my god, that's today?!"

"ALEX! I gave that to you last night so you and Dean could finish decorating it. Now what are we going to do?! There's no time to run back to the castle before—"

"God, Hermione, calm down, I'm messing with you!" I say, pulling the folded up sheet from out of my inside pocket. Hermione scowls at me, but I continue to smile. "Jeez, laugh a little, will you? It's here, no worries, not to mention totally epic if I do say so myself." I marvel momentarily at the large, life-like Gryffindor lion roaring across the "Potter for President" banner (Don't ask me why it says that, I'm not quite sure, but I get the general message). It had taken a little longer due to an excessive number of artists (I'm not naming names) but got done none the less.

Hermione takes the banner from me, her scowl softening into a frown before she places a charm on it so the phrase stretched across the rat-ruined bed sheet begins to flash all different colors.

I give her a quick, "Impressive," and we hang the banner from the side of the stands along with the rest of the first year Gryffindors.

When the teams finally walk out onto the field I immediately spot Harry. From this distance he's just a red and black dot, but I know it's him because he's undisputedly the smallest person on the field.

The Gryffindors and Slytherins meet in the middle where Madam Hooch talks to them for a moment before they all mount their brooms. There's a sharp whistle blast and suddenly all the players are in the air.

Commentating the game is a third year named Lee Jordan (a friend of Ron's older brothers Fred and George) and his voice fills the stadium instantly.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor — what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too —"

"JORDAN!" Professor McGonagall interrupts from next to him.

"Sorry, Professor; and she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve — back to Johnson and — no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes — Flint flying like an eagle up there — he's going to sc— no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle — that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and — OUCH — that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger — Quaffle taken by the Slytherins — that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger — sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which — nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes — she's really flying — dodges a speeding Bludger — the goal posts are ahead — come on, now, Angelina — Keeper Bletchley dives — misses — GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

"WHOOOOOOOOO!" I scream, jumping to my feet. I had been watching the play by play almost religiously. I don't know what it is, I'm not a big sports person at all, but not all sports are this… _awesome_! I lean over the railing and look toward the Slytherin supporters. "TAKE THAT, YOU _SLITHERING JERKWADS_!"

"Enjoying the game, Alex?" Ron chuckles from down the row.

"Are you kidding?! This is so cool!" I emphasize my point by rippling the edge of the "Potter for President" Banner.

"Budge up there, move along."

"Hagrid!"

I turn my head to see the hairy giant who brought us across the lake from the train. How do Ron and Hermione know him so well?

"Bin watchin' from me hut," the giant, Hagrid apparently, says, patting a pair of binoculars hanging around his neck and resting on his thick, black beard. "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"

"Nope, Harry hasn't had much to do yet." Ron says.

"Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin'," Hagrid nods before looking toward Harry flying high above our heads with his binoculars.

"Um… hi?" I greet.

Hagrid angles the binoculars downward until their pointed at me. "OY!" he exclaims, probably at the super-zoom, before lowering the magnifiers from his face. "Sorry abou' that. An' who might you be?"

"Alex, Alex Russo, I'm one of Hermione's roommates." I say. He offers one of his overlarge hands to shake and I jokingly grasp his wrist with both hands, which earns me a chuckle.

"You friends with Ron an' Harry as well?"

"Oh, yeah,"

"Then why haven' I seen you when they come over for tea?"

I'm momentarily tempted to ask him how many students the giant asks to have tea with him in his hut (and how many are ever heard from again), but upon reflection find that might come off as incredibly rude, so instead I say, "I didn't know about it, but I'm definitely coming to the next one."

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan says

"_WHAT_?!" I screech, whipping around to face the stadium again.

"Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the — wait a moment — was that the Snitch?"

Snitch, what was the snitch again? Harry said it was pretty important. Suddenly Harry starts streaking through the air and a Slytherin player quickly follows him, now they're neck and neck.

"Go Harry, GOOOO!" I scream, waving the banner from my end furiously.

Harry is speeding ahead of the Slytherin player and I'm practically jumping—who am I kidding, I _am _jumping—when out of nowhere…

_WHAM!_

Another Slytherin player blocks Harry and his broom starts drifting off course.

"WHAT?! NOOOOO! YOU… YOU… TROLL! YOU FREAKING TROLL!" It was the worst insult I could think of after my experience on Halloween. Some people started to laugh, because apparently the Slytherin player, Marcus Flint, looks an awful lot like a troll up close. "Seriously, though, that's gotta be a foul or something, right?"

I do seem to be right, because after Madam Hooch gives _Flint_ a talking to (as if that does anything) Gryffindor gets a penalty shot.

"Send him off, ref! Red card!" yells Dean, the kid I made the banner with.

Ron, ever the muggle ignorant, asks, "What are you talking about, Dean?"

I'm too busy listening to Lee Jordan's commentary to hear the rest, though I'm sure it isn't as entertaining. Lee's Gryffindor bias is showing in a big way.

"So — after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating —"

"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall's voice rings throughout the pitch.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul —"

"_Jordan, I'm warning you _—"

"All right, all right, Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."

I'm looking for Harry in the sky again when I see him dodge a Bludger and his broom makes a funny jerking movement. God, this game is dangerous, you couldn't pay me to play it, but watching it is awesome. Still watching Harry I see that his broom is moving around nonstop. Is he showing off? Is he bored with so little to do? Whatever it is he looks like he's riding a bull in a rodeo. My dad had wanted to do that for a while (long story). I'm starting to get a little worried. I mean, I'm all for doing dangerous stuff every now and then just for the fun of it, but he's gotta be like a thousand feet in the air or something.

I tune out Lee's next comments to look toward Hermione. "Hermione, is Harry supposed to be doing that?"

At my comment Hagrid raises his binoculars upward to look at Harry again. "Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing. If I didn' know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom . . . but he can't have. . . ."

More and more people begin to notice Harry's body flailing around in midair. His broom begins to tumble over and over again, his body spinning with it. Then with a wild jerk of the broom and an audible gasp from the crowd (me included) Harry is suddenly dangling from the broom by his hands.

"What is going on?"

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" someone whispers.

Hagrid responds, shakily, "Can't have, can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic — no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."

Seemingly out of nowhere Hermione seizes Hagrid's binoculars and starts using them to search through the crowd.

"What are you doing?" Ron asks distractedly, looking up at Harry with a grave expression.

Catching on to what she's doing, I ask, "See anything?"

"Yes! Snape — look." She says, handing the binoculars to Ron, who after a moment and a quick "I knew it!" hands them to me.

Snape is sitting in the stands across the stadium from us with the Slytherins (BOOO!) and has his gaze fixed on Harry, lips moving nonstop as he continuously mutters.

"He's jinxing the broom!" I whisper shout.

"What should we do?" Ron asks.

"Leave it to me." Hermione says, and before either me or Ron are able to respond, Hermione is gone with a flash of her bushy hair.

Ron and I exchange a confused look before focusing back on Harry. Ron's older twin brothers, Fred and George (who are also apparently on the Gryffindor Quidditch team) make attempts at rescuing Harry from his broom, but this only causes the broom to fly higher, causing more potential danger.

Just as they start circling around low beneath him I hear Lee mumble distractedly, "The score stands at 60 to 20, Slytherin."

_WHAT?! When did that happen?_

"Come on, Hermione!"

A few minutes pass before there's a commotion across the stadium involving a loud yelp and a small cloud of smoke. It seemed as soon as this happened Harry got control back over his broom because he is now back on safely and soaring through the air again.

"Neville, you can look!" Ron says, and I turn from the pitch for the first time since what feels like hours to see Neville turning away from Hagrid, unclutching his jacket sleeve, his face puffy and tear-stained.

"Aw," I coo, rubbing his shoulder consolingly.

But it seems the time to worry about Harry is not over. He stops streaking through the year at level with most of the other players, who had become more active in the game now that the excitement was over, to dive toward the ground. He's covering his mouth, like he's gonna hurl (something I'm surprised and slightly impressed he hasn't done already). He lands in the grass on all fours and coughs up something I avoid looking at.

Then, he strangely lifts whatever it is overhead (can you lift up vomit?) and shouts, me only barely hearing him, "I've got the Snitch!"

The Snitch? _Oh!_ Now I remember! Harry said his job as Seeker was to catch the Snitch, which is like a tiny gold ball that pretty much means you win the game! _Awesome_!

"Gryffindor wins 170 to 60!" Lee Jordan screams happily into his megaphone as the trollish Marcus Flint begins throwing a hissy fit down on the field.

* * *

"It was Snape," Ron says immediately when we get to Hagrid's house, a wooden hut on the edge of the "Forbidden Forest" as some people call it. I sent Neville back to the castle to enjoy the party I heard they were having in Gryffindor Tower. He wasn't really involved in this; besides, if he ever heard that Snape was trying to off his students I would fear for his sanity. Harry, Ron, and Hermione are seated at an overly large coffee table with giant mugs of hot tea. I would have joined them, but I'm not too eager to try the drink; I like my tea cold and sweet, thank you very much. Not to mention I was too busy getting acquainted with Hagrid's black boarhound, Fang (I _love_ dogs, especially big ones!). "We saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."

"Rubbish, why would Snape do somethin' like that?" Hagrid says dismissively. He had obviously not heard me, Ron, and Hermione's conversation at the game.

"I found out something about him," Harry begins, truthfully. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."

There was suddenly a loud crash that made me stop scratching Fang's belly. Hagrid was standing at the remains of a shattered teapot with a ghostly expression.

"How do you know about Fluffy?"

"_Fluffy_?"

Hagrid looks sheepish as he says, "Yeah — he's mine — bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year — I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the —"

"Yes?" says Harry, eagerly.

"Now, don't ask me anymore," Hagrid grunts. _Dang, nice try though._ "That's top secret, that is."

"But Snape's trying to _steal _it."

"Rubbish," Hagrid repeats. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher; he'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" Hermione cries._ Well, someone's certainly singing a different tune._ "I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid; I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!"

Hagrid raises his voice. "I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong! I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now, listen to me, all four of yeh — yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel —"

"Aha!" says Harry, "so there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"

As a scowl begins to work its way onto Hagrid's face a wide smile spreads over mine.

* * *

*** Some lines are taken directly from ****_Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's_****_Stone _****by J.K. Rowling**


	11. Christmas Break

**A/N: Let me begin by stating how deeply sorry I am for making you all wait so long for the next chapter. For those of you still with me I am truly grateful to you. I'm finishing up my Senior Year right now, so I haven't had a lot of time to write. But fear not, I have returned! I really like this chapter, not only is it extra long, but it also features a classic Wizards of Waverly Place adventure. As much as I'd like to feature more "Holiday Specials" (Hopefully there are some Doctor Who fans reading this) sometimes Christmas at Hogwarts can't be avoided (I'm looking at ****_you_****, Fourth Year!). As always, I do not own Harry Potter or Wizards of Waverly Place (Though sometimes I'd like to own Selena Gomez... In a totally non-sexist way of course!)**

* * *

Chapter 11 — Christmas Break

* * *

"I do feel so sorry for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

There are no words. I have _had it_ with this guy. Ever since Harry kicked butt at the Quidditch match against Slytherin, Malfoy's vendetta against him has grown even stronger. After the game he had started making fun of how Harry flailed around on his broom and caught the Snitch in his mouth. He changed tactics when he realized no one else thought it was funny that Harry had almost _died_. But this all happened a _month_ ago and Malfoy's anger and jealousy has not lessened even slightly.

Now, I don't know much about Harry's family. He doesn't like to talk about them much. Ron says that the one time he mentioned them to him was on the train, so all I know is that he lives with his aunt, uncle, and cousin and they're all horrible. This made it unsurprising that Harry was one of the first students to sign up to stay at the castle over break. Personally, I'm kind of excited to go home. I miss my room, I miss the city, I even kind of miss the sub shop (Missing my family is obviously implied).

But back to my main point, I've been trying to build up a tolerance to Malfoyisms, but it's getting really difficult.

_I think it's time to give Malfoy his Christmas present._

I grin slyly to myself before ripping a small piece of parchment from my notes, jot down a few words, and whisper the memorized incantation before tapping it with the tip of my wand. I fold it up quickly and send it across the room toward Malfoy through a chain of people. I had originally planned to use this special trick on Justin, but it doesn't look like I'm going to be having many classes with him, so I might as well use it now.

"Alex, what are you doing?" Hermione whispers, her brow furrowed and her eyes worried.

"You'll see!" I sing-song quietly.

When the note reaches Malfoy it is Crabbe who hands it to him, whispering in his ear but pointing blatantly at me, cancelling out all secrecy. _Ugh, egghead!_ Malfoy looks toward me with a smirk and I return what hopefully looks like a welcoming smile. He unfolds the note and there's suddenly a small explosion and a cloud of confetti falls on Malfoy's head of no longer slicked back hair, a stupidly confused expression on his soot covered face.

Snape sweeps toward the scene menacingly, probably trying to find some way to blame it all on Harry, when he sees the original scrawl of parchment resting on Malfoy's head. The laughter that ensued after the blast from the Gryffindor students stops dead as Snape growls, "'Merry Christmas, Love Alex'"

"Yeah," I laugh slightly, pointing a finger up to acknowledge my mention.

Snape stalks toward my table after dropping the note back on Malfoy's. One thing I _have_ built up a tolerance for is Snape's intimidation shtick; I've been receiving it way too much not to grow accustomed to it.

"Miss Russo, since it is almost the holiday season I will not be giving you detention."

"Really?" I ask against my will. "Wow, awesome!"

Snape's own smirk quickly returns. "Yes, I will just have to be taking thirty points from Gryffindor."

My mouth drops open as every person in the room donned in a red and yellow tie groans. No one shoots me any mean looks though, so I still consider this a victory.

As Snape returns to his lesson Hermione leans across her cauldron to whisper accusingly, "Why did you do that?"

"Because Malfoy needs to learn that he can't get away with whatever he wants." I hiss back. "Besides," I continue slyly. "I thought he might appreciate the heat." This was an excellent distraction because it encouraged Ron to start talking about how freezing it was in here, and Hermione's glaring eyes began to soften.

If I hadn't been so busy trying to deter Hermione's long drawn out affair with rules, I might have noticed what Harry did: that Malfoy had slipped my note into the pocket of his robes.

* * *

When Potions finally, _mercifully_ ends Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I are some of the first out the door. Out in the entrance hall there is a giant tree blocking the way to the Great Hall. Under the tree are two enormous feet and behind it is the sound of shallow breathing. When we approach, Hagrid's head appears from behind it. (And it's not like I was expecting Santa Claus or anything, but I did pause for a second. With his big size and long beard Hagrid does kind of look like jolly Old St. Nick with the wrong coloring).

"Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asks.

"Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron."

As soon as he says it, I'm kind of relieved. Not that I don't think it was a nice gesture to ask or anything, but if _Hagrid_ is having trouble carrying it…

"Would you mind getting out of the way?" Three guesses who said that! "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose — that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

I thought Ron would just brush the comment off (he and Harry had been surprisingly non-responsive to Malfoy's taunts for the last month), but instead, Ron lunged at him.

"WEASLEY!"

And surprise, surprise, the dream team strikes again. Just as Ron has Malfoy's robes clutched in his fist Snape arrives, Ron letting go instantly.

"He was provoked, Professor Snape," Hagrid's voice says before his head pops through the tree (Am I really not expected to reference Santa Claus here?), "Malfoy was insultin' his family."

"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," Snape says with one of his evil smiles. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."

Malfoy and his goons strut away victorious, knocking into the tree and having it shed all over.

"I am so sick of them!" I say to no one in particular. "I am so looking forward to some time off from those two."

"I'll get him," Ron says, grinding his teeth, glaring after Malfoy, and talking as if independent from what I'd just said. "One of these days, I'll get him —"

"I hate them both," Harry says, a bit more on topic with my statement, "Malfoy and Snape."

"Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas," says Hagrid. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."

And a treat it is. The hall looks amazing. All the Christmas decorations you never really see like holly and mistletoe are hung on the walls, not to mention the twelve giant, fully decorated Christmas trees.

* * *

After admiring the Great Hall for another minute Hermione excuses us to the library for another research session on the seemingly-fictitious-at-this-point Nicolas Flamel (Much to Hagrid's dismay). As we approach the library I suddenly "remember" I still have to finish packing for the train home tomorrow. After Hermione reprimands me for waiting until the last minute (or strategically waiting so I wouldn't have to spend another few hours flipping through boring, dusty books) to pack I take a leisurely walk back to Gryffindor Tower.

It's not that I didn't want to help. Don't get me wrong, I want to know who Nicolas Flamel is and what he has to do with all the weird things going on just as much as the other three, but c'mon, it's almost Christmas! Not to mention the fact that I've spent all my free time for the past month looking for that stupid name in the library. I need a break!

* * *

"Bend your knees! Bend your knees!" Dad shouts as he, Mom, Justin, Max, and I land from the I.P.P. into The Lair. We all stumble around, trying to regain our feet. When we eventually do only Mom looks nauseous, wearing the ridiculous I.P.P. Mortal helmet. Dad helps her remove the helmet from her head, wearing the look he always does when we use the I.P.P., glad that he still has the ability to use it without having to wear the stupid helmet.

"Ugh," Mom groans, fluffing out her hair. "I _hate_ magic."

"We know!" The rest of us chorus together, because she has brought this up on more than one occasion (reads, _as often as possible_).

When Mom is gone, our trunks stacked together in the corner Dad turns to us with an overly cheery grin and says, "Alright, now that Justin and Alex are back we can continue learning _our_ branch of wizardry."

"What?!" I ask, unshouldering my bag. "Dad, we _literally just_ got home. It's Christmas! Why do we have to learn anything?"

"Because, Alex, as beneficial as Hogwarts is to your training, you need a working knowledge of the magic you were born with. And I'm not going to let you all fall behind..." he says, constantly moving around, messing with various magic items, before he escorts me to the back table we used to use to take our wizard lessons. I feel a tad nostalgic as I look over to see Justin, eager to learn with an annoyingly confident look on his face, and Max, looking confused as to how he was suddenly in his own chair, seated beside me.

"Alright, pop quiz, who knows the spell that can change a person into an animal?"

"Oh! Ooh, ooh, ooh! Me, me! I know!" Justin yells, looking excited and slightly desperate.

"No need to wreck your pants, Justin, no one's trying to compete with you." I mumble.

This seems to go unnoticed. "Justin?" Dad calls.

"That would be _Animosa Espinosa_."

"Correct!" Dad cheers.

"Is this really necessary? I mean, what's the difference between this and becoming an animagus?" I ask. I had found that term in a book during the Great, on-going Nicolas Flamel search in the library. And if I had possibly wandered off from the main target to learn more about it then, well… it wasn't hurting anybody.

"Good question, Alex!" Dad says, encouragingly. "You see, using the _Animosa Espinosa_ spell is much simpler, and from what I hear less painful, than the process of becoming an animagus. To do that there is a whole procedure about harnessing your inner power and finding the animal within. Once you've completed that you can have the ability to change into that one animal whenever you want. Our use of the _spell,_ however, is simpler, faster, and much more flexible. All you have to do is think of the specific animal you want while reciting the spell and it will happen, you can even still talk!"

_Jeez, _I thought sarcastically, _He doesn't have any biases, does he?_

"Alright, let's try it out!" Dad says, excitedly.

"Uh, Dad?" I say. "I think you're forgetting something."

"What's that?" Dad asks, curiously.

"We can't do magic outside of school." I respond, giving him a kind of "Duh!" face.

"Well of course you—"

Justin suddenly coughs very loudly giving Dad a look that clearly says, "SHUT UP!"

This sparks an idea in my head. No… that can't be right… Those are the rules; we can't use magic unless we're at Hogwarts. Right? Right?! Okay, enough of the inner monologue.

"Explain?" I ask aloud.

"Well," Dad begins, looking hesitant. "The Ministry of Magic can legally only penalize you for the use of _British_ spells. Anything you learn at Hogwarts is considered illegal to use until you're seventeen unless at Hogwarts. But the magic I teach you…"

A devilish smile spreads over my face. _Oh, this is gonna be fun._ "So, the spell?"

"Right!" Dad says. "Alex, why don't you go first?" We all walk from around the table for more room. "Just think of an animal, _within reason,_ and try it out. You can use me for a test run. But remember to change me back, you use the counter spell: _Humanosa Espinosa_."

Okay, okay, random animal, let's see. I pace for a moment, thinking. Dad looks way too excited right now. He's even got that little twinkle in his eye Dumbledore has. Dumbledore with his long white beard, how long it must have taken him to grow it out, wait, no, _focus!_ Now is not the time to think about Dumbledore's Billy goat beard— Wait I got it!

"_Animosa Espinosa!"_ I say, waving my wand.

With a bright light Dad is suddenly replaced with a white goat! Oh my god, that is awesome! He's grazing around the carpeted floor and brays loudly, causing Justin, Max, and I to laugh. I still can't believe I get to do this stuff all the time!

"Okay, Alex, you've _ha-ad_ your fun," comes Dad's voice from the goat, baaing a little on the long "A." "Change me _ba-ack_."

"Oh, but Daddy, you look so cute as a goat." I tease.

"Oh," Max says, suddenly looking excited. "Let's make him eat a tin can!"

"Not funny, _Ma-ax!_ Alex, change me _ba-ack!_"

"Okay, okay," I relent. "_Humanosa Espinosa_!"

And then my dad is back, hunched over, sways slightly (still grazing) then standing in front of us, letting out a groan. This is just too cool!

"We really got your goat, huh Dad?" Justin chuckles.

It's such a good moment, and such a bad pun, that I laugh anyway and Max joins in.

"That's it!" Dad yells seriously, his twinkly-eyed Dumbledoreyness gone. "You just laughed your way into one hour study hall, starting now! Let's go!" I try to protest, but am cut off as he continues. "And that means, working on your Wizard homework and not messing around." he hands me and Justin our school bags and a special worksheet to Max. "Who's laughing now, huh? _He-ha-ah-he_!" He stops at the last bray and exits the room.

"There's something wrong with that spell. Or maybe it's me…" I say, concerned for about a millisecond. "No, it's gotta be the spell."

I put down the worksheet in my hand and open up the wizard computer which really looks like an old typewriter. Now that I know I can use magic whenever I want it's time to see if I can find my personal Diagon Alley online!

"What're you doing on the wizard computer?" Max asks.

"Yeah," Justin begins. "We're supposed to be doing our homework not surfing the World Wide Wiz Web."

"Justin," I say. "Did you not hear Dad? We can do magic whenever we want to! Besides, I need to do a little shopping. I like to look good when I'm doing my homework."

I keep surfing for a little while before stopping on the website for Witch McCann's boutique. "'No trip high heels…'" I read. "'No matter how high the heels are it's impossible to twist your ankle,' I have to try some on!"

I hit a special key and with a flash of light and a slight ding there is a woman standing next to a display of shoes with impossibly high heels standing across the room from us.

"Hmm," I say, thoughtfully. "They were cuter on screen." And with another click from the keyboard the woman and shoe rack disappear.

"This is exactly why I didn't want Dad to tell you about the American magic loophole!" Justin complains from down the table.

"Wait, you knew?" I ask, shocked.

"Duh!" Justin exclaims. "I've just been cautious about it. Unlike you. You know about it for two seconds and you're already slacking off and using it irresponsibly."

I roll my eyes. I am so sick of Justin's holier-than-thou attitude. I bet he wouldn't be so _responsible_ if there was something he wanted involved. I'm looking through a page when I spot an ad for Dragons disguised as pets. In the ad four animals lay on a table, each having scaly wings where they ordinarily wouldn't. The one that stands out (mostly because the other three are lizards) is an adorable beagle. I know Justin loves dogs almost as much as I do and hasn't been the same since I accidently let out his old dog Willie when I was five (not that Justin knows about it). Let's see if Mr. Responsible can deny the ultimate puppy dog face.

"Oh look here's something for you, Justin!" I click the same key as before and the whole display from the ad is before us, this time accompanied by a slightly creepy-looking man. "Check it out! Mini-Dragons for sale!"

* * *

"So, long story short," I say to Hermione and Neville on the train back to Hogwarts on January 2nd, the day after break is over. "I buy Justin the dog-dragon—"

"How?" Neville asks, interrupting. "I mean, isn't American wizard currency different from European wizard currency?"

"Actually, no." I say. "He was just a few galleons and some sickles. He was even on sale! The guy gave me a coupon."

"The seller gave you a coupon to use on the one purchase you've ever made from him?" Hermione questions, looking suspicious.

"Yeah, I know. I guess I should've figured out he was shady when he did that, but I just thought he was eager to sell. But I'm getting to that." I shift in my seat slightly before I continue the story. "So anyway, we decided not to tell our parents and they just thought he was a dog that I found. They said we could keep him if no one showed up to claim him. So we put out found dog posters knowing he wouldn't be claimed and we'd get to keep him, but on Christmas Eve when our parents sent us out shopping, we came back and found out that his 'rightful owner'" I say using air quotes, "had come and taken him."

"But he's a dragon." Neville says, looking confused. "There couldn't be a rightful owner for him; he's not even a dog!"

"Exactly!" I say, excited to have an active audience to my story. "It turns out that the Dragon Seller was like this conman who would sell the dragons and then steal them back over and over again."

"That's horrible!" Hermione states, looking slightly shaken. "Was that the end of it?"

I scoff. "Of course not, we had to get him back. So it turns out this kid who was covering for the boy who usually works at the newsstand outside our building, who I swear is destined for the mafia or something, had seen the guy and had sold him a program for the Hudson Holiday Dog Show. He was competing with Dragon, that's what we called the dog, for the big cash-prize for the winner. We snuck in after I turned Max into a dog—"

I stop when Hermione makes a small noise.

"What?"

"It's… it's just…" Hermione seems momentarily conflicted about what she wants to say before she charges on. "It's just the way you said that, so off-handedly. 'Oh, I just turned my brother into a dog, not that much trouble, really.' It's absolutely incredible! I mean, you don't learn such advanced transfiguration at Hogwarts until _seventh _year, and here you are after one semester, as if it's no big deal!"

I wait patiently for Hermione to finish her newest tirade. "Can I continue?"

Hermione huffs before she nods in agreement.

"Good, anyway, we get back stage and find the Dragon Seller who tells us his whole plan. Then, before we can grab Dragon, he makes him disappear. He was still there though, we knew this because when I turned Max back into a human he still had a canine sense of smell, so he knew he was still there. So then Justin had the idea for Max to sniff all the beagles—"

"But this Dragon Seller could've changed him into anything, couldn't he?" Hermione asks. "He could've been something other than a beagle since he was originally a dragon and charmed into looking like that specific breed of dog—"

"That is basically exactly what he told us as soon as Justin made the suggestion." I roll my eyes at her. _Could Hermione be less smart for a few minutes?_ "So, Max starts sniffing a bunch of dogs trying to find Dragon, but gets taken by security. So I decide to change myself into a cat because earlier in the week we found out that unlike normal dogs, Dragon doesn't chase cats—"

"Well, I wouldn't think he would, seeing as he's a drag—"

"Hermione, can I please finish my story?!" I whine.

Hermione gives a sheepish apology before turning quiet again.

"Okay… where was I? Right, so, I turned myself into a cat, but it didn't exactly work out. I didn't get the spell right and I ended up turning into a tiger."

"A tiger?!" Neville squeaks.

"Yeah," I laugh. "Naturally, everybody freaked out and ran, thinking I was gonna eat their dog or something, all except Dragon. So then the Dragon Seller put him in a cage and was about to take him back when I tricked him into taking another one."

"Wait," Hermione says. "You just gave someone else's dog away?"

"What? No, of course not. It had bunch of toys and stuff in it to weigh it down, but there was nothing alive inside it. I wouldn't give someone's dog away to a dragon seller."

I'm kind offended that both Hermione and Neville have uneasy looks on their faces, like they would expect me to. It's good I didn't tell them I almost handed him the cage with the blow-dried rat inside.

"So, after all that, we decided to tell our parents the truth about Dragon. And then they decided we couldn't keep him, because we couldn't bring him back to Hogwarts and he would be too much trouble for them at home. But they let him stay for the holidays before we sent him to a magical creature shelter. It turned out that the Dragon Seller had poached all his stock from Romania and we helped them track him down."

"So…" Neville says after a while. "Pretty normal Christmas, then?" This causes the three of us to laugh.

"Oh, that reminds me…" I say before turning around and grabbing my trunk from an overhanging compartment. I put it on the floor, unlock it, and start digging. Once I find the two wrapped packages I'm searching for I close the trunk and present them proudly toward my two companions. "Merry Christmas!"

Personally, my present load had been alright this year. Dad's had been a sketchpad and a spell that would let me enter any kind of book (Don't ask me about this sudden burst of generosity, I'm trying not to question it). Mom did the same thing she did last year, and apparently plans to do for every birthday and Christmas until I graduate: she got another charm for my charm bracelet. I hope you don't read that negatively, because honestly I love them. Justin gave me his old set of Merlin flash cards ("Thanks for nothing, bro!") and Max had _made_ his gift: Marshmallow Surprise (_shh, _the surprise is asparagus… oh, wait, did I say _shh_? I meant _yuck_!).

Hermione and Neville had also sent me presents. Hermione's was a book on advanced potion making (I have mixed feelings about this one) and Neville had given me a box of "Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans" which are like these jelly beans that come in all kinds of weird flavors (Strangely, I found one that was flavored "Marshmallow Surprise").

"What'd you get us?" Neville asks.

"Presents from the muggle world!" I announce happily.

"Alex, you do realize I'm _from_ the muggle world?" Hermione asks, giving me a quizzical look.

"Ah, yes, but _you_, Miss Plausible-Facts-and-Figures, have never ventured in all your years of book-worming into the world of fiction, correct?"

Hermione blushes slightly. "Well, I suppose—"

"Exactly!" I yell, much too excited. "And that is why I am introducing you to the books that opened me up to reading, and made a library full of people back in middle school gasp simultaneously and one person, quite scandalized, calling, 'Alex Russo has a _book_!'"

"Well, it must be quite special then," Hermione responds, removing the wrapping paper off her new book with an amused expression. "Now, who is this _Percy Jackson_?"

"You'll see!" I sing-song.

"Alright, now that you've explained that to her, what about these?" Neville asks, holding up various orange packets.

"Those, my pureblood compadre, are one of muggle kind's most amazing accidents ever created."

"_Reeses'?"_

"Chocolate and peanut butter cups! You're welcome!"

Neville shrugged, putting the candy in the seat next to him. "Did you get anything for Harry and Ron?"

"As a matter of fact I did," I say, turning back to my trunk. "Which I think is very generous of me, seeing as how they didn't get me anything."

"I didn't get anything from them either." Hermione states, looking a little put out.

"Maybe they're waiting to give them to you in person, like you, Alex?" Neville defends nervously.

"Maybe…" I agree skeptically. Suddenly, I stop my rummaging through the trunk. "Oh, _man_!"

"What is it?"

I retract my arm from the trunk lying on the floor and pull out the charcoal remains of a long roll of parchment. With a pathetic look to Hermione and Neville I ask, "Do you think Snape will believe that my dog burnt my homework?"

* * *

*** Some lines are directly taken from ****_Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone _****by J.K. Rowling (and some from Wizards of Waverly Place)**


	12. The Search Is Over

**A/N: Hi guys, for those of you still here, thank you so much for not giving up on me. I know my updates are far and in between, but it's hard to get inspired sometimes and there's not a lot to work with when you're changing the base story of a series because you don't want to change things too drastically, otherwise it's not the same story you originally fell in love with. Don't worry I have a lot of plans and ideas for the later books, i just have to get through this one first. I promise I will try to update more, but I'm starting college soon so let's see what happens. I do not own Harry Potter or Wizards of Waverly Place**

* * *

Chapter 12 — The Search is Over

* * *

Though it clearly wasn't as fun, magical, and amazing as my holiday, I was not the only one with a story to share upon returning to school. Harry's story included wandering around the castle at night under a cloak that makes him invisible that he inherited from his father given to him by an unknown source. For three nights he returned to a room that held a mirror through which he could see his whole family, his parents at the front. My heart twinged a little when he revealed that the mirror is meant to show you the thing you want most in the world.

While Hermione reprimanded him for sneaking out of Gryffindor Tower three nights in a row ("If Filch had caught you!") I was contemplating two things. First, why didn't Harry get in trouble with Professor Dumbledore when he caught him? And second, most likely brought on by Ron revealing what he saw in the mirror (himself as head boy, Quidditch captain, and winning both the House and Quidditch Cups), I wondered what I would see if I were to look into the mirror. I honestly have no clue…

But anyhow, all of those midnight trips had been in vain and we were no closer to finding out who Nicolas Flamel was than we were before. The four of us returned to searching the library every chance we got (me slipping out as often as possible) and Harry began training for the upcoming Quidditch game: Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff.

Today, though, we are taking a break from our endless search. It's kind of nice to just sit around the Common Room for a while instead of staring up at those high, never ending book shelves I'm starting to see in my sleep and loathe entirely. Right now I'm just stretched out on the couch by the fire, watching Ron and Hermione play "Wizard's Chess." When I first saw someone play I was mildly impressed that the pieces could move themselves, but then they started to destroy each other and things got a lot more interesting (I even briefly considered learning to play), but after seeing Ron play against anyone who would, it's gotten a bit old.

I look up at the sound of the portrait hole opening and see Harry walking towards us. He's a little dirty from Quidditch practice (Though I don't know how that could be, considering they fly through the air) and his face is ghostly pale.

"Harry, you okay?" I ask.

Harry opens his mouth to talk but is cut off by Ron saying, "Don't talk to me for a moment, I need to concen—" Ron looks up and sees by Harry's expression that something is wrong. "What's the matter with you? You look terrible."

I try to hold back my eye roll before I hear Harry stutter. "S-Snape's refereeing the Quidditch match."

Snape's refereeing?! And getting another chance to kill Harry?! I don't think so!

"Don't play," Hermione says immediately.

"Say you're ill," Ron suggests.

"Pretend to break your leg," Hermione throws in.

"_Really_ break your leg," Ron says.

"I can't," Harry finally interjects. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."

"If you think we're gonna let you anywhere near that guy while you're on a broom again—" I begin to say.

But before I can finish what I'm saying the portrait hole opens once again, this time it's Neville, who is bunny hopping towards us with his legs firmly glued together with a Leg-Locker Curse.

"Neville!" I call and quickly help him the rest of the way to the couch. Everyone else in the Common Room is beside themselves with laughter and I swear I could curse them all with how angry I am. I don't know the counter spell to this one so I turn and say, "Hermione, could you…?"

Hermione at once leaps to her feet, performs the spell, and Neville's legs spring apart, him still shaking a little.

"Who did this?!" I demand at once.

"Malfoy," Neville shakily gets out. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."

God, Malfoy _again_?!

"Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urges. "Report him!"

Neville shakes his head. "I don't want more trouble," he mumbled.

"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" says Ron. "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."

"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," Neville chokes out.

I'm all ready to give a major pep talk when Harry puts a hand into the pocket of his robes and pulls out a Chocolate Frog and hands it to Neville.

"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Harry says. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin,"

Neville looks as though he wants to smile, though his eyes are a little watery, and he unwraps the frog.

"Thanks, Harry . . . I think I'll go to bed. . . . D'you want the card, you collect them, don't you?"

I give Neville a smile and ruffle his hair a little as he passes me. "I suppose you're going to take the advice now that it's coming from him?"

Neville's eyes widen suddenly and the teary eyed look is back as he stares at me apologetically.

"Hey, don't worry about it." I reassure. "Whatever gets the message through."

He smiles slightly again before walking away and climbing the stairs to the boys' dormitory.

I turn back around at the sound of a gasp and see Harry holding up the Chocolate Frog card that Neville had given him.

"_I've found him_!" Harry whispers once we're all sitting down again. "I've found Flamel! I _told _you I'd read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here — listen to this: 'Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, _and his work on alchemy with_ _his partner, Nicolas Flamel_'!"

Hermione suddenly jumps to her feet looking very excited. "Stay there!" she says, then sprints up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. Harry, Ron, and I barely have a chance to exchange baffled looks before she comes rushing back, carrying an enormous old book.

"I never thought to look in here!" she whispers excitedly. "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."

"_Light_?" Ron asks, causing me to elbow him in the ribs. If we're finally about to get our answers I don't want to question it.

After a lot of page turning and muttering from Hermione she skims through one last page, eyes widening, smiles with triumph and stabs the page with her finger. "I knew it! I _knew _it!"

"Are we allowed to speak yet?" Ron asks grumpily, glaring at me slightly.

"Nicolas Flamel," Hermione reads dramatically, "is the _only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone_!"

Are we supposed to know what that is?

"The what?" Harry, Ron, and I ask together.

"Oh, _honestly_, don't any of you read? Look — read that, there."

She shoves the book towards us. Whoa, that's a long passage… maybe I'll just skim.

_The ancient study of_… Blah, Blah, Blah… _the Philosopher's Stone, a legendary_… Blah, Blah, Blah…_ any metal_ _into pure gold_… Blah, Blah, Blah…_ immortal _… Blah, Blah, Blah… _only Stone currently_ _in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel _… Blah, Blah, Blah…

"See?" Hermione says after a minute. "The dog must be guarding Flamel's Philosopher's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it, that's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!"

"A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!" Harry says excitedly. "No wonder Snape's after it! _Anyone _would want it."

"And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that _Study of Recent_ _Developments in Wizardry,_" Ron points out. "He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?"

They're all so excited and sure it all fits, but all I can think about is that now that we found it out, what are we supposed to do with this information?

* * *

*** Some lines are directly taken from ****_Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_**** by J.K. Rowling**

**** I know there's some controversy over the whole Philosopher's/Sorcerer's Stone thing, but I decided it would be more authentic to the story if I used Philosopher's even if I'm using my Sorcerer's Stone copy as a reference. **


	13. The Game and the Confrontation

**A/N: Ask and ye shall receive... or something. One person asks for an update and here it is. Your support really keeps me going, so thank you. As always I do not own Harry Potter or Wizards of Waverly Place. I'd also like to wish a Happy Birthday to a lot of people that are involved in my story: (My Version) Alex Russo and Selena Gomez - July 22; Daniel Radcliffe - July 23; Neville Longbottom - July 30; and Harry Potter and J.K. Rowling - July 31**

* * *

Chapter 13 — The Game and the Confrontation

* * *

The past few weeks have been absolutely crazy! If I didn't know better I would've thought someone had put a hit out on Harry. Slytherins from every year have been trying to trip, hit, and hex him into incapacitation every chance they get. I've taken to firing my own special brand of spells back at them in retaliation. However, the only person I can't strike back against happens to be the worst offender. Yep, you guessed it, Snape; God, what a joke of an educator. Just because he knows how to brew a decent potion doesn't mean he has the slightest clue how to teach other people how to do it. Harry says he wants to play but I can tell the pressure is getting to him.

Luckily all this stress is going to be over in a matter of hours (or minutes… or days… Quidditch games don't exactly have a set time limit to them) because today is the big day! If Gryffindor beats Hufflepuff in today's Quidditch match we'll earn enough house points to overtake Slytherin in the House Championship for the first time in seven years!

We've just left Harry at the locker rooms and are headed to the stands to watch the game. I had tried to keep a hopeful expression while wishing Harry good luck in the game, but Ron and Hermione hadn't even tried to look like they weren't deciding what kind of flowers to put on his coffin.

When I spot Neville I lead the other two towards the empty seats by him.

"Hey, Neville!" I call, giving a one armed hug when I'm close enough.

"Hi, Alex," he responds, before looking to Ron and Hermione. "What's wrong with them?"

"Nothing," I assure quickly. "They're just nervous. Big game and all that," Then I turn to them and whisper, "You guys have got to calm down."

"We're worried!" Ron exclaims quietly and a little accusingly, as if I'm not totally freaking out on the inside. "Who knows what Snape's going to try to pull this time now that he's in the thick of things?"

"But that's why we've been practicing that jinx Malfoy pulled on Neville for the past few weeks, right?" I ask. "To use the Leg-Locker Curse the second it looks like Snape's gonna try something."

"Exactly," Hermione states, "Now don't forget, the spell is _Locomotor Mortis_."

"I _know_," Ron snaps. "Don't nag."

I roll my eyes and turn back to face the pitch, waiting for the game to begin.

After a minute I hear Ron mutter "I've never seen Snape look so mean." Then a bit louder, "Look — they're off. Ouch!"

At Ron's exclamation I turn around to see Malfoy standing behind him, lowering his hand as if he had just poked him in the back of the head.

"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there." He says, grinning broadly at his pet goons trailing behind him. "Hi, Alex,"

I glare at him for a moment before turning back around to watch the game. A few minutes of the game goes by without any interruption. After Snape gives Hufflepuff a totally unjustified penalty shot (so what if George aimed a Bludger at him?), Harry still circling the game from above, Malfoy decided to speak up again.

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" I want to snap, but Hermione throws me a look that says '_Just ignore him'_ but my aggravation only increases because in the same moment on the field Snape gives Hufflepuff another penalty shot for no apparent reason. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money — you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."

I whip around so fast, wand at the ready that both Malfoy and his dancing chimps look stunned, but before I can utter a punishment worse enough for his pure horribleness a voice beside me beats me to it.

"I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," Neville stammers.

This seems to be comedic relief to them after the scare I inspired because they are simply howling with laughter now.

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something." Malfoy says, still chuckling.

"Either way neither of them would ever be as disgusting a person as you." I say, my tone biting. "Now, I'm warning you, Malfoy — one more word —"

"Look!" Hermione suddenly shouts, "Harry —!"

"What? Where?" Ron yells, having lost track of him. I too turn around to find Harry now diving toward the ground fast. Hermione and I are up on our feet, her fingers twisted strangely, trying to get a better view.

"You're in luck, Weasley," Malfoy calls. "Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!"

Before I know what's happening Ron tackles Malfoy to the ground. I don't even have the time to gasp before Neville joins in the fray too. I stare transfixed as I watch Malfoy and Ron rolling around on the ground while Neville engages in a fistfight with two meatheads twice his size.

"Is this happening?"

Suddenly there's a sharp blast of a whistle and the audience is roaring. This is what breaks my trance like state. I turn around to see Harry, very close to Snape, clutching the Golden Snitch in his hand. It's already over?!

"The game's over! Harry's won! We've won! Gryffindor is in the lead!" Hermione is shrieking, her body seemingly unable to stop moving as she hugs everyone in sight.

_Guess that answers that question._

* * *

"That was insane!" I am still musing as Hermione, Ron (nursing a bloody nose), and I sit in the hospital wing, gathered around the bed of an unconscious Neville.

"And completely idiotic," Hermione states, giving Ron a disapproving look. "I can't believe you, Ron. How can you give into Malfoy's childish taunting like that?"

"Oy!" Ron complains, his voice sounding a bit nasal. "I was already on edge thinking my best mate's life was on the line and then I had that greasy git making stupid jokes about my family in my ear the whole time. What would you've done?"

"Not sunk to his level." Hermione huffs haughtily.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better," I begin. "I have much more respect for you now."

"Alex, don't encourage him!" Hermione reprimands.

"Oh, c'mon, Hermione, Malfoy's had it coming all year." I say, shifting on the bed to face her better. "And are you telling me when you see him sporting that big black eye in class tomorrow you're going to feel sorry for him?"

Hermione hesitates momentarily. "…Well, of course not. He's horrible."

"Exactly,"

We are interrupted by the sound of Madam Pomfrey returning from her office to oversee Neville. After giving him a quick once over she shakes her head pityingly at him before turning to us. "Alright you three, no use waiting around for him to wake up; it's getting late. When he comes to I'll give him a potion for the bruising and the disorientation and keep him here over night. You might as well go up to your Common Room and enjoy the party."

* * *

We're walking down the corridor headed for the dreaded marble staircase when a figure joins us along the hall.

"Harry," Hermione calls when she recognizes him. "Where have you _been_?"

"We won! You won! We won!" shouts Ron excitedly, thumping Harry on the back. "And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He's still out cold but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be all right — talk about showing Slytherin! Everyone's waiting for you in the common room, we're having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens."

"Never mind that now," says Harry, looking alarmed and breathless. "Let's find an empty room, you wait 'til you hear this. . . ."

He leads us into a classroom before launching into the story of what he just overheard in the Forbidden Forest: a menacing conversation between Snape and Quirrell about the very item created by the man we tried so hard to find.

"So we were right, it _is _the Philosopher's Stone, and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it." Harry finishes. "He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy — and he said something about Quirrell's 'hocus pocus' — I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through —"

"So you mean the Stone's only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?" Hermione asks in alarm.

And Ron takes the words right out of my mouth.

"It'll be gone by next Tuesday."

* * *

*** Some lines are taken directly from ****_Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_**** by J.K. Rowling**


End file.
